


The Zed Word

by lae (tetsurashian)



Category: Torchwood
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Movie Fusion, Community: Reel Torchwood, F/M, M/M, Zombies
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-24
Updated: 2012-09-24
Packaged: 2017-11-14 22:48:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 27,510
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/520315
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tetsurashian/pseuds/lae
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jack’s weekend went a little like this: Friday, he spends his night in the Hub with his best friend, lover, and lover’s friends; Saturday, he gets dumped by lover; come Sunday, he’s fighting off a zombie invasion and trying to survive. Just another weekend, then.</p>
<p>Written for reel_torchwood screening 5. Prompt "Shaun of the Dead."</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Zed Word

**Author's Note:**

> Bless my beta, teaboytoaliens, for all eternity.

The bell rings and echoes through the pub.

“Jack, do you understand what I mean?”

“Oh yeah,” Jack Harkness replies. “Totally.”

“I know he’s your… best friend,” Ianto Jones, his… _boyfriend_ sighs, as if just the thought of Jack’s best friend exhausts him. Knowing Ianto and well, John Hart, Jack can understand why. “But you do live with him.”

At that, Jack shifts in his seat. “Well, technically, Owen’s my only official housemate—“ A look from Ianto makes him backtrack. “But yeah, I know. It’s only temporary though, John’s just looking for a place.”

Jack sees Ianto’s lips press into a thin line and is momentarily distracted by memories of where those lips have been wrapped around before. He doesn’t show any outward reaction, but his dick is starting to stir from the images and by god, has it been _that_ long?

His lover presses on. “It’s not that I don’t like…” At this Ianto pauses and a telling tic tells Jack how much Ianto actually likes John. Jack kind of does the same when talking about his step father. “It’s not that I don’t _tolerate_ John.” Almost as an afterthought, Ianto repeats the sentiment to his aforementioned friend. John replies with a distracted ‘uh huh’ as he plays with the game machine.

“It’s fine,” Jack just says. His eyes trail Ianto’s hand running up and down his drink bottle, and Jack remembers it’s been a week since they last shagged and it really has been so long ago.

“It’d just be nice if we could—“

“Fuck,” John echoes from the side. Jack can’t help but feel the same way.

“Spend a bit more time together,” the younger man continues before taking a long drink from his beer bottle. Jack twitches at the sight. “Just the two of us.”

“Damn.” From the corner of his eye, Jack sees his friend hit the machine. “Cock it!”

“With John here, it’s no wonder I always bring my flatmates out.” This reminds Jack of the three on the table beside them, listening in on their conversation. They’re bad at pretending they aren’t. “And that only exacerbates things.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, you guys aren’t exactly friends, are you?”

“No, I meant what does ‘exacerbate’ mean?”

“It means to make things worse.”

“Right, okay.”

Which isn’t really true, Jack thinks, but it’s not a complete lie either. Sure, Rhys is a nice bloke, but he doesn’t seem to approve of Jack, and Jack’s not too fond of him either. And Gwen, while a sweetheart, has kind of made it a habit in alternating between ogling him and glaring at him with those cow-eyes of hers. Jack likes the attention just as much as the next man, but lately it’s gotten undiscerning. Tosh though, Jack adores Tosh. He doesn’t say any of this though. “Well, it’s not like I don’t like them, you know.” He looks over to his left and says, “Guys, it’s not that I don’t like you. I do!” And gives them a winning smile when they wave it off.

That only makes Ianto frown deeper.

So Jack turns his attention back to Ianto and holds his hand. “And I do want to spend time with you,” Jack says, sincerely. He strokes his lover’s hand with his thumb and inwardly cheers when the action brings a hint of a smile to his gorgeous Welshman’s face. “I really do. But John doesn’t have too many friends, and he just got back from rehab, so he needs someone to look after him.”

“Sorry to interrupt the heart-to-heart lovefest.” John strolls over to them and leans on their table. “But any of you cunts want a drink?”

Ianto’s glare is pure poison, Jack fondly observes. And either John doesn’t even notice, or he doesn’t care.

“Anybody? No?”

“No,” Ianto smiles at John blandly. “Thank you for the offer though.”

In response, John returns the smile with a leer. “Anything for you, Eye Candy.” The hand Jack holds tightens its grip on his own hand.

They would have such fabulous hate sex, he thinks. A part of Jack is dismayed that it would likely never, ever happen, but a larger part is relieved that it wouldn’t.

John looks over to Gwen, Rhys, and Tosh, eyebrows asking and shrugs when they reply a negative.

“I know,” Rhys starts when John has walked away, “friends are important to Jack. But you gotta set some quality time for yourselves.”

Gwen jumps in her seat a little and beams. “Yeah! Rhys is always taking me around Cardiff or even out of town. Sometimes Tosh joins us, too! And well, I’m always dragging him to the theatre and stuff.” She finishes with a sheepish grin and an affectionate pat on Rhys’ arm.

“I dated a theatre guy once,” Jack muses. “Once we snuck in his show’s set after hours and we—“

“ _Jack._ ”

“Right, no theatres then.”

“How about a meal?” Tosh suggests.

Gwen nods in agreement. “It’s your anniversary soon, isn’t it? You could go to the Italian place near the Bay! Rhys took me there for ours and everything was _gorgeous_.”

Rhys nudges his girlfriend uneasily and mutters, “Their anniversary was last week.”

“Oh,” Tosh looks at Jack and he can’t help but feel like he’s being judged. “Did you… did you do anything special?”

There is a pause, and Ianto quietly sighs. “We came here.”

Now Tosh is definitely looking at him with disapproval and disappointment. Rhys is glowering, too, and Gwen frowns at Jack. There is an uneasy silence between them.

Well, fuck.

“Jack!” John shouts from a couple of feet away. “Hog Lumps!” And proceeds to throw the packet at Jack’s face. Though a little irritated at the unnecessary action, Jack opens the pack and snacks on the pork rinds anyways.

“Jack,” Ianto says after a few more moments of silence. “What I’m trying to say is, I need something more -- more than spending every night in the Hub. I didn’t want or even expected much when we decided to give this relationship a go, but if there’s one thing I want right now, is you to want to want to do it, too.”

The piece Jack bites crunches loudly and he cringes.

Ianto apparently wasn’t expecting a proper reply, and Jack can’t help but feel offended by that. Then again, with how great he’s been in this conversation, Jack might as well concede Ianto’s exasperation justified. Jack was never good at actual relationship talks. “Listen to me, I’m beginning to sound like your mam. Not that I’d even know what she sounds like.” Ianto sighs.

Gwen turns her attention back to them. “You still haven’t met his mum?!” she exclaims, wide-eyed.

“Not yet,” Jack says defensively. “I _am_ going to introduce them soon, though!”

“Don’t you get along with your mum, Jack?” Tosh hesitantly asks.

“It’s not her I don’t get along with…” Rather, it was her husband. His stepdad, that is.

Rhys frowns at him. “Are you ashamed by your mum?” Funny that it was him who asked that, considering the horror stories Gwen has recalled to everyone about _his_ mum.

“No!” Jack exclaims. “I love my mom. My mom’s great!”

It was then John decides to cut in, “I _love_ his mum.” He grins and waggles his eyebrows suggestively. John hums cheerily as he walks away again.

“John!”

“Jack,” Ianto, Gwen, Rhys, and Tosh all say roughly at the same time. Ianto is starting to look tense, and Jack is beginning to feel guilty. Wasn’t he the one who asked Ianto to take a step up in their relationship from just fucking to actually dating? Now Ianto the one trying to keep their relationship from falling apart and making it work.

“Look, Ianto, I understand what you’re trying to say and I agree.” Jack smiles at him. “We should get out there. Tomorrow. We’ll start tomorrow, yeah?” Seeing Ianto starting to ease up, he continues. “I’ll book a restaurant, the Italian place Gwen’s talking about. Just the two of us.” 

He takes Ianto’s hand firmly and presses his lips to its knuckles. “Things will change, _I promise._ ”

That hint of smile is starting to crawl back into Ianto’s face and Jack feels accomplished. “Really, Jack?” he says, a bit wariness in his tone, but overall hopeful.

Jack grins back. “Really.”

The bell rings again, and Alex Hopkins the pub owner calls out, “Time, gentlemen!”

 

Jack groans awake and staggers downstairs to the living room. He hears before sees John on the couch, playing with the Playstation. He grabs the second controller and makes himself comfortable beside his friend.

“ _Player two has entered the game,_ ” an electronic voice says from the telly. Jack absently notes all the rubbish on the coffee table and floor. Owen may not be the neatest man around, but even he’d have something to say about all the trash his friend had left, if only because he hated John.

“Haven’t you got work?” John nonchalantly says.

Jack curses and moves to get up.

“ _Player two has left the game._ ”

Less than half an hour later, he’s pissed, washed, brushed his teeth, and dressed in his uniform for work – crisp baby blue shirt and no tie. In actuality, his work uniform comprises of a white shirt and red tie, but Jack doesn’t like it much; he looks so much better in blue. He’ll leave the color red for Ianto, who is ravishing in it. Jack’s looking at his clashing red name-tag with the bathroom cabinet mirror and fixing it when he feels an unhappy glare being directed at the back of his head. Shutting the cabinet and changing the mirror’s angle reveals a very disgruntled Owen behind him.

“Hey, Owen—!”

“The front door was open again last night.” Owen scowls. It never ceases to amaze Jack he’s a doctor with that attitude.

Five minutes later, they’re standing in the kitchen eating breakfast. Jack takes a bite of his toast.

“I’m not saying it was you,” Owen continues.

Jack swallows his food. “I know—“

“I’m saying it was Hart.”

“Right.” He sighs.

Owen takes a large gulp of coffee and scowls. “I can’t bloody live like this.” Jack knows he’s talking about the bin liners full of trash at the corner of their kitchen.

All John’s trash.

“Look at the state of it!” Owen gestures with his hand. “Bloody pig-sty, our house is turning into. We’re not students anymore. Actually, even in college, _I_ was neater than this – and that’s saying something!”

Conversations like this are becoming more frequent lately. Jack can’t blame Owen, but he does need to try to defend his friend. “Owen…”

“He brings no money into the house.”

“He brings a bit.”

“What?” Owen rolls his eyes. “Dealing drugs? Didn’t he just get back from rehab?”

“For using,” counters Jack. “Didn’t say anything about selling. Come on, you’ve sold some.”

“Yeah,” Owen deadpans. “Once. At college. To _you._ ”

Jack sighs. “Well, I can’t just kick him out. I’ve known him since primary school. And I like having him around, he’s funny. Most of the time.”

“Because he has the same brand of bloody ridiculous and juvenile humor as you do?” The shorter man snorts and drinks his coffee. “Fuck-a-doodle-doo.”

_‘Well, yeah,’_ Jack thinks and cringes.

“Alright, I admit, he can be pretty funny on occasion,” Owen says and a grin starts to form on his face. “Like that one time we stayed up all night drinking apple schnapps and playing Tekken 2.”

Jack perks up and laughs at the memory. “Oh yeah,” He chuckles. “When was that again?”

The Owen’s grin immediately disappears as he straight-up says, “Five _years_ ago. Jack, he’s got to _go._ ”

 

“Hey, John, listen…” Jack starts as he watches John play one of his first-player shooting games. “Top left.”

John directs his character to shoot the enemy on the left and grumbles, “I know, I know.”

“Right, I was gonna say—Reload.”

“I was going to.”

“So, I think it’s time, nice shot!”

“Thanks.” John grins and Jack returns it, until he remembers what he’s supposed to be talking to his friend about. He’s about to speak again when John’s phone lets out his god awful, annoying ringtone. “One sec,” John says as he pauses his game and well, now Jack’s getting a little irritated himself. He dislikes being brushed off and ignored.

And Owen is putting on his jacket, glaring at them by the doorway.

When John is done talking with one of his, well, _clients_ , Owen stomps over. John ignores him and continues with the game.

It’s too early for this oncoming headache.

“Oi, Hart,” Owen growls. “Since you’re not even working at the moment, mind if you actually clean up a bit?”

“Uh huh.” John absently nods.

“And if you play the answering machine, can you take down everyone’s messages? _Some_ of us do get important ones, after all. Shouldn’t be too taxing for you, writing words on a scrap of paper?”

“Sure.”

“Right.”

Owen’s mobile rings and he answers it. “Yeah, yeah, I’m heading over now,” Owen grumbles before turning to leave the house. That was when Jack sees what’s taped to the back of Owen’s jacket.

‘I AM A TWAT.’

Jack tries to hide a grin and fails and when Owen’s gone, lets out a snort of laughter. “John…” He barely manages to sound scolding.

“Come on,” John rolls his eyes. “It was pretty funny.”

He sighs, running a hand through his hair. “Will you do what he said, at least?”

“I ain’t doing shit for him.”

“For me, then,” Jack says, standing up to leave for work.

There is a pause before John solemnly replies, “I’m sorry, Jack.”

“It’s alright…” Jack stops and frowns, a bit confused on what John’s sorry about this time.

“No, no.” His friend’s face is serious as he gazes right at Jack’s eyes. “ _I’m sorry,_ Jack.”

That was when he smelled it. “Oh god, that’s disgusting!” But even as he’s trying not to breathe in the stink, he’s still grinning.

John triumphantly smirks back. “I’ll stop doing them when you stop laughing.”

“I’m not laughing!”

The phone rings just as he’s putting on his leather jacket, and John calls out to him, “Get that, will you?”

Jack snorts and calls back, “You get it!” Besides, he’s going to run late for work if he stalls any longer, unless he cuts the visit to the shop – which isn’t going to happen, because he does need some coffee. He leaves, but if he had stayed a minute longer he would’ve heard Ianto’s voice leaving a message for him.

_“Hello, Jack, it’s me. I’m going to be a bit tied up today, so when you book the table can you make it for eight rather than seven? I’ll try you at work. Bye.”_ End message beep.

 

Jack barely dodges the football from hitting him. “Hey!” he says to the kid. “Watch it.” The kid just rolls his eyes in return.

He waves at Owen, who’s sitting in his blue car talking to someone on the phone. Gives change to the usual homeless guy with the dog. Stops a car from running him over with his dazzling good looks. Stumbles over the curb near a man washing his car window. Passes by a woman leaving her house and a jogger. Tries to ignore an old man’s staring. Then he enters his trusty corner shop, heading straight for their canned coffees.

The newspaper headlines catches his eye. “ _Mutilated remains?_ ” Jack raises an eyebrow at that. “ _GM crops blamed, Mystery virus claims more lives, Havoc_ … Really?” he scoffs. Still…

The shop owner startles him out of his musings and he quickly pays before leaving.

 

Jack hates the bus and all other public transportation. But since John had crashed his car a few days back, he has to bear with it while it was in the mechanic’s. From out the window, he sees a woman passing out, nearby people rushing to help her and Jack can’t help but feel uneasy about something.

All too soon, he’s at work, gathering his employees for a daily pep-talk. “Come on, people! Gather around or whatever,” he says and waits for them to assemble. “Okay, since the two head ladies, Ms. Holroyd and Ms. Guppy, are both out with that bug everyone and their mother is getting nowadays (“Yeah, right,” one of the teenage employees mumbles, as if nobody knew just exactly how close the two women are and what _exactly_ they’d be doing in bed instead), I’m in charge as the—“

“Oldest,” the front-most employee of the crowd, Adam, grins to his friend on the left.

“Senior staff member.” Jack gives the guy a very unimpressed look. “So, if we can all not give the ladies a reason to reduce _our_ paychecks…”

The sound of a mobile ringing interrupts him. Adam doesn’t even hesitate to answer it, despite the fact that Jack was right there and _talking to them, dammit_. When he finishes the thankfully short conversation with his mate, the kid smirks and nods at Jack. “Continue.”

“Thanks,” Jack says blandly. “Okay, as the lovely Miss Guppy always says, ‘Fucking sell something, or find yourself another bloody job.’” He pauses. “Something like that…. Or was it ‘If it’s quality electronics, it’s Torchwood’s.’”

The employees look at him blankly, and then start lazily to disperse. Adam has his phone out again, his mobile’s keys sounding a tone with each press as he texted.

“Phones off.” Jack frowns at Adam. “It’s not a social gathering.”

Adam snorts in reply and mutters loud enough for Jack to hear, “All right, grandpa, keep your hair on.”

“Hey! I’m twenty-nine, for Christ’s sakes,” he indignantly exclaims. Jack’s too close to thirty for comfort and though he wouldn’t admit it, his age always makes him testy and self-conscious, especially since Ianto looks (and is) a good deal younger than him. “How old are you, twenty, twenty-one?”

“Seventeen.” Adam raises his eyebrows at him. And before Jack could let out another reply, Adam gestures to his shirt. “By the way, you got red on you.”

Jack looks down at his shirt and sees the red pen’s ink bleeding through the fabric of his shirt pocket. He curses.

 

Jack’s showing off one of the more basic televisions to a young couple when Adam interrupts him again. (For some reason, it had more news on than it usually did.)

“I’m with customers,” he tells the kid with a stern frown, but as always, Adam is unmoved.

“It’s your dad.” Adam gestures to a figure that had his back turned. Jack can recognize the man anywhere.

As if the day couldn’t get any worse.

“He’s not my dad,” he tells his customers. “He’s my stepdad.” And reluctantly makes his way over to the old man.

“Bilis.”

His stepdad turns and nods to Jack coolly. “Jack. You haven’t forgotten about tomorrow?”

“No,” Jack sighs. “Of course not.”

“Your bi-monthly visit,” Bilis says as he sweeps his eyes around the store. “You could bring the flowers you forgot on Mother’s Day.”

“I was gonna.” He probably sounds a little defensive. But it wasn’t his fault the flowers he got his mother got ruined and he hadn’t had time to get another bouquet. It was John’s fault. It was _all_ John.

Bilis nods. “Well, we look forward to seeing you tomorrow.”

“Okay.” Jack forces a grin on his face as Bilis starts to walk away.

“By the way,” Bilis pauses. “You’ve got red on you.”

He watches his stepfather exit the store with a scowl, absent-mindedly noticing a number of military trucks driving past. Trust Adam to interrupt him. _Again_.

“I thought it wasn’t a social gathering?”

“What?”

“How come you’re allowed to speak to your dad?” Adam quirks an eyebrow and gives a condescending smirk, the little brat.

“A,” Jack says, “he’s not my dad, okay? He’s my stepdad. And B, it was an emergency.”

Adam snorts. “What, like buying your mum some flowers?”

“Adam.” There’s definitely a warning tone in Jack’s voice now. “I don’t find it hard to keep my world and social life separate.”

“Jack!” Mike, another employee, calls out. “It’s Ianto for you.”

Jack glares at Adam one more time with a caution not to say a word and grabs the phone from Mike’s hand. “Hey,” he greets.

“ _Hello, it’s me._ ”

“Ianto.” He lets the grin seep through his voice. “ _Hello_ , you.”

There’s a fond exasperated sigh on the other line and the sound of it only makes Jack’s grin wider. “ _Stop it,_ ” Ianto says scolding. “ _You’re at work. Anyway, did you get my message?_ ”

“Yep,” Jack makes a note to himself to check what exactly that message is when he gets home.

“ _So it’s all alright, then?_ ” Meanwhile, the Welsh tilt of Ianto’s words are _really_ getting to him. “ _Eight at the Italian place by the Bay?_ ”

Right, he’ll have to remember that. “Yep.”

“ _Great, just ring me later, then. I’ve got to go, bye, Jack._ ”

“Bye bye, _darling_ ,” Jack says teasingly and is a little triumphant when he hears a soft and amused snort at the other end before Ianto hangs up.

When Jack puts down the phone, Adam is looking at him with a smirk. “Darling?” He echoes Jack.

“Ianto from Head Office.” Jack grins, all teeth. Really, just hearing Ianto has made up for the shitty morning he’s had so far. “Nothing to be worried about.”

 

Some bloke in a suit and coat is running real fast, Jack notes as he looks out the window of the flower shop.

“Sir.” The shopkeeper snaps him out of his daze.

“Sorry.” Jack has a sheepish yet charming smile on his face. “They’re for my mom.”

The shopkeeper blushes at him and nods. “Mum, then. ‘To a wonderful Mum’ or ‘Supermum’?”

“First one.”

“Right.”

While she sets to get the bouquet ready, Jack looks out the window. And sees an old man on the other side of the street, looking drunk and swatting around the pigeons before finally getting a hold of one.

Then starts to bring it to his mouth.

Jack makes an incredulous noise at the back of his throat, morbidly wishing he could see if the man was going to actually _eat_ the bird, but buses drive by and block his view. By the time the second bus had passed, the old man’s gone.

 

Half his bus is sick, Jack realizes with a grimace. People are coughing every other second and the lady beside him looks half-dead. He is more than relieved when the bus stops at his usual corner and gets off immediately, flowers clutched in his hand – which is probably a good decision, considering the traffic ahead of them, cars honking and frustrated drivers shouting at whatever’s holding them up. He’s strolling down the sidewalk when suddenly, hands grab him by the shoulders and he’s looking right at the face of a very familiar man – shaggy brown hair, blue pinstripe suit on his skinny frame, well-worn Converse trainers, and all.

“Oh my god,” John ‘The Doctor’ Smith beams brightly at him and Jack returns the grin just as enthusiastically. “Jack!”

“Doctor!” They share a friendly hug and a pat on each other’s back before pulling away. It has been a while since they last saw each other, after all.

“How are you doing?” The Doctor asks, genuinely curious as always.

Jack shrugs. “Surviving.” The sound of an ambulance fills the air and they raised their voices just to make sure they heard each other. “You? And how’s Rose?”

“Oh, I’m brilliant! Rose is too, of course.” His friend cheers. “You live around here, then?”

“Yeah, I bought a place with a friend.”

The Doctor laughs heartily and gives Jack another pat on the shoulder. “Bought, eh? Growing up now, are you, Jack!”

“Please,” Jack snorts jokingly. “I’m still young where it counts.”

“You still with…” The Doctor hums, trying to remember the name, but eventually gives up and waves his hand as if saying, _‘you know.’_

“Ianto,” he reminds his long time friend. “And yeah, we are.”

John’s beam is back. “Good, good! Glad somebody made it. Too many relationships nowadays are off their rocker, they are. How long’s that now?”

“Uh, three years as of last week.” Inwardly, he winces, remembering how ‘happy’ Ianto was on how they celebrated that day. “We’re going out for a meal tonight, actually.”

“Oh, great! Anywhere nice?” It was an innocent question, and Jack knew how the Doctor liked to show his friends around anywhere he thought was nice, so he was probably seeing if he could take Rose or Martha or Donna or whoever if Jack thought it was good enough. But something was tickling him at the back of his mind, something important—

“Yeah….”

And then it clicked.

The reservations.

Oh, _shit._

 

Normally, it takes Jack ten to fifteen minutes to walk from the bus stop to his house.

Today, he makes it in four.

He doesn’t waste time putting the flowers in the sink, thankful that the bouquet is still in one piece considering the sprint he had to do. Quickly going through the phone book, he crows in triumph when he finds the restaurant’s number in less than a minute and dials it _immediately_.

It is a life or death situation, really.

“Come on, come on,” Jack grits his teeth as the restaurant refuses to fucking pick up the phone.

“Are you gonna thank me then, sweetheart?” John’s mocking voice echoes from the living room.

“For what?” _‘Now really isn’t the time, John,’_ Jack thinks.

John lets out a sigh. “Tidying up, you dick.”

“It doesn’t look tidy.”

“I had a few beers when I finished.”

The ringing stops, and somebody _finally_ answers the phone. “ _Hello, Angelo’s. Can you hold, please?_ ”

Jack barely stops himself from letting out a frustrated scream. _Barely._

“You had messages, by the way,” John says even as he’s absorbed in his game. “Your mum rang about tomorrow night, then Eye Candy (“Stop calling him that, John.”) rang about the two of you eating out tonight. Then your mum rang back to see if _I_ wanted to eat _her_ out tonight.”

“Okay, I know you’re lying about that last one—“

“ _Hello, Angelo’s._ ”

“Hi!” Jack jumps to attention. “Look, I know it’s short notice, but could you possibly do me a table for two for tonight at about eight?” He prays and prays that some god will take mercy on him because god, Ianto is going to _kill_ him if they don’t---

“ _Sorry, we just gave away the last table._ ” The bloody man hardly sounds apologetic, and Jack lets out a few colorful words before actually biting the phone in aggravation. The man hangs up right away.

“Okay,” John says. “The last one about your mum wasn’t true.”

Jack ignores him though, more concentrated on racking his brain for an idea. “What am I gonna do? Where are we gonna go?” He groans.

“The Hub.” His best friend shrugs.

“Don’t be stupid! They don’t do food.”

“There’s a Breville out back. Maybe they’ll do you a toastie.”

“John, this is serious!”

As if on cue, the phone rings and with a muttered prayer (‘ _Please don’t be Ianto, please_ ’) Jack answers it after the first ring. “Hello.”

“ _Hello, it’s me._ ” Ianto.

Fuck. Fuckity, fuckity, fuck.

“Ianto! I was just thinking about you!” he exclaims, trying to see if he can build _something_ to fall back on.

“ _I’m sure you were._ ” Jack could practically feel Ianto’s eye roll from the other side. “ _So, what’s the plan, then?_ ”

Well. So much for that _something_.

“Uh, there’s been a bit of a mix-up with the table…” he starts cautiously.

“ _What do you mean?_ ”

Jack sighs. “They’re full up.”

“ _Jack… But I thought you said it was all okay._ ”

“Yeah…”

There’s an uncomfortable pause. When Ianto finally speaks, he sounds resigned. “ _You didn’t book it, did you, Jack?_ ”

Jack winces at the tone; he hated disappointing his lover. But lying at this point is just going to dig him a deeper hole, he knows that. So he quietly admits, “No.”

“ _So,_ ” Ianto’s voice is carefully blank. “ _What’s the plan, then?_ ”

Jack hesitates. From the corner of his eye, he can see John trying to get his attention and drawing a big H in the air. Later, he would reflect on this moment and think he shouldn’t have listened to John, should’ve suggested something else, something other than – “The Hub?”

Ianto hangs up.

 

“Hello?” Jack hears Tosh say through the intercom. He’s outside the building of Ianto’s flat, the flowers for his mom clutched in his hand.

“Tosh!” He beams. “Can you let me in? Please.”

There’s an uncomfortable moment of silence, and Jack cringes. Uh oh.

“I’m not sure I should, Jack.” Tosh replies, hesitant yet stern. “I don’t think Ianto wants to talk to you now.”

“Much less see you!” Rhys pipes up, making Jack scowl. “And I mean, he really, really, doesn’t want to see you right now.”

“Either let me in, or I come through the window,” he counters. He hears Rhys scoff incredulously and nearly pouts at the other man’s disbelief. “I’ll climb up the wall and go through the window, I really will!”

It’s Gwen who speaks up next. “Jack,” she says, like talking to a child. “Ianto is upset, for good reason, and I don’t think—“

“Alright, I’m coming up. See you in a minute.”

“Jack, don’t--!”

A couple of floors above, the three friends look at each other unsurely. Then just outside, they can hear Jack grunting and struggling to climb up, only to eventually fall back down with a loud groan. Tosh, Rhys, and Gwen all wince.

Their intercom buzzes.

“Hey, it’s me again.”

 

‘ _Oh dear,_ ’ Jack thinks as Ianto slams his coffee cup on the table before getting up. _‘He’s furious.’_ He winces, following his young lover around the flat.

“Can we just, uh, _talk_ about this?” Jack offers. Even if he’s never the type to talk about feelings and relationships or whatever, he isn’t stupid enough not to realize an offer for angry make-up sex would go horribly, horribly wrong. “Let’s go out—“

“Where?” Ianto bites as he grabs a tie he’s carefully hung on a chair and putting it on. “To the Hub?”

Jack falters. “Do you want to?”

“No, I don’t fucking want to!” Ianto fiercely hisses while he puts on a suit jacket. In any other circumstances, Jack would make a lewd comment or something of the like, because _damn_ , Ianto looked positively _delicious_ in his navy pinstripe suit and pink shirt. “It’s not the only place in the world, Jack!”

“We’ll go Myfawny’s! I know you like their coffee there—“

“I’m going out with Tosh, Rhys and Gwen.” A couple of feet away, the aforementioned three shuffled uneasily in place. They could hear the argument very clearly despite being in a different room.

“Let’s go together.”

“You, hang out with my friends?” they hear Ianto ask, almost incredulously. “A techie more interested in computers than people, a creepy failed copper-slash-actress, and the most boring lorry driver this side of Cardiff?” At that, Tosh bites her lip and looks down on her shoes; Gwen flushes, glaring at the direction she knows Jack is despite not seeing him; and Rhys sputters, offended.

“Now that’s just harsh!”

“Your words!”

“I did not say that about Tosh and Rhys!” Jack exclaims from the other room, and Gwen makes an indignant sound at the implication that what he said about Gwen was true, then. Ianto bursts from the other room and Jack trails behind. “Let’s just go somewhere and make up the night. Things’ll be fine, I promise.”

That just makes Ianto start on another point. Jack’s _promises_. “You promised you’d stop smoking when I did. You promised you’d go back to the gym. You promised you’d try to eat healthier foods instead of takeaway. You promised you’d go on holiday with me—“

“We went to Barcelona, didn’t we?”

“We _met_ in Barcelona.”

“During Ianto’s college spring break,” Rhys mutters from behind Ianto. (As if Jack needed the reminder of their five years age difference. John made enough comments about jailbait the first few months of his and Ianto’s casual arrangement, thank you very much.)

“Jack.” Ianto sighs. “Just last night you promised things would change. You know I’m trying, but it won’t work if you don’t try either.”

“Didn’t he promise us free cable?” Gwen whispers to Tosh, a few feet away from Jack.

“I’m working on that,” he says, pointing at Gwen. Jack then puts all his attention back to Ianto. His beautiful Ianto, whose eyes are looking at him with resigned acceptance and disappointment, and _ow_ , was that his heart hurting?

“Look.” Jack fumbles through his leather jacket’s pockets and finds a pack of cigarettes. “I can give up smoking, see?” And throws the pack to where he was sure the trash bin was. “See, don’t need them.” Then he pauses and draws a blank. “What was the next one?”

Ianto shakes his head. “It’s not enough, Jack. I’m sorry if you feel like I’m asking for too much, but… it’s been _three years_.” Ianto shrugs and quickly walks past him.

Jack closes his eyes, feeling like the biggest fuck-up in the universe at the moment. The radio in the background talks about communications being down, but Jack couldn’t care any less about that.

“Well,” Gwen hesitantly pipes up from beside him. “I don’t think Ianto’s going to be receptive to you any time soon, Jack—“

“Get fucked, cow-eyes!” Jack grits out, ignoring the offended look Gwen was sure to be sporting right now. Normally, Jack would be all charm and smiles to women, even to Gwen. But to be fair, this was shaping up to becoming of the worst days of his life. “ _You_ go out with him, if you love him so much.”

Gwen, of course, gasps and reddens. “What the hell do you mean by that, Jack Harkness?!” When Jack simply snorts and walks away, she glances to Tosh and Rhys with wide eyes. “I don’t know what he meant by that!”

 

Jack finds Ianto in his bedroom, sitting on his bed with his face in his hands. It wasn’t too long ago they were doing other (better) things in this room, but Jack doesn’t let that thought distract him. Right now, he needs to salvage what he can from their relationship.

“I got you these,” Jack murmurs, handing the flowers he still clutched in hand. Still looking impeccable, miraculously.

Ianto reluctantly takes them and looks at the bouquet dubiously. They’ve never been a ‘bringing flowers for the date’ kind of couple, after all. So when he sees the tag attached, he’s not even surprised. “To a wonderful mum?” Ianto raises an eyebrow at Jack after he sits down beside him.

Jack coughs and smiles sheepishly, “Oh, uh, well— Yeah, that’s because, I thought it would be funny. Because of what you said last night, about you don’t wanna be my mom and that and uh, it’s just a little joke. Sort of spur of the moment.“

“They’re for your mum, aren’t they?”

“Yeah…”

“Smooth,” Ianto drawls, handing the bouquet back to Jack. He sighs, stares at some spot on the carpet, and talks. “If I don’t do something, Jack, I’ll end up in that pub for the rest of my life, like those other sad old drunks, drinking myself to death too much like my Tad, wondering what the hell happened.”

Then Jack asks the wrong question. “What do you mean do something?”

Less than five minutes later, he’s staring at the front door as Ianto shuts it close with a quiet, “Goodbye, Jack.”

The pouring rain soaking through his clothes doesn’t even register his mind.

 

There’s a couple making out outside the Hub and it makes Jack sick. Frustrated, he throws the flowers over to the bin, takes a deep breath, and gets himself ready to drink himself dead.

All too soon, he’s gone through four beers, five packets of crisps, making his way through a bag of pork rinds, and has recounted the story of How Jack Harkness Fucked-Up the Best Thing of His Life Again to John. Twice.

“Fuck ‘im,” John sympathetically exclaims as Jack blearily looks at him. He’s rather certain his eyes are red rimmed and he doesn’t look like his usual great-looking self. He never dealt well with being dumped and he is a horrible drunk when sad. Yet John continues on, “You’ve got your pint, your pig snacks, you’ve got _me_ —what more do you want?”

Jack stares before dropping his head on the table with a dull thunk. John hears him groan something suspiciously like ‘Iantooooo—‘ but pretends he never heard it.

Of course, the jukebox decides it’s good time to play Chicago’s _If You Leave Me Now_. Jack looks up again, his red eyes staring at the jukebox, looking like he’s about to cry. ‘ _Oh, boy,_ ’ John cringes.

“Oh, for the love of—Who the fuck put _this_ on?”

“It’s on random.” Jack makes a quiet and muffled wail against the table.

“For fuck’s sake.” John grimaces and quickly raises his hand at the pub owner. “Alex, yes please, mate.”

Minutes later, the pub has become a private fortress. Telly, jukebox, and the brighter lights off – its own little lockdown, with only VIP guests, Jack and John included.

“You know what we should do tomorrow?” John says lowly. “Keep drinking. A Bloody Mary first thing, a bite at the Weevil’s Head, couple at The Welsh Prince, stagger back here and bang! Back at the bar for shots. We’ll even go on the pull and get you a nice rebound shag. How’s that for a slice of diamond?”

Jack shakes his head, feeling a little better than he did a few minutes back. “No.” He sighs. “I can’t do that.”

“Come on, man.” John takes a quick drag of his smoke. “Talk to me.”

“He said,” Jack recalls, “that if he stayed with me, he’ll end up here for the rest of his life, with these sad old drunks, drinking himself to death, wondering what the hell happened.”

“Ouch.” John raises his eyebrows. “That’s harsh. These old fuckers happen to be interesting characters.”

He snorts at his friend, doubtful. “Oh yeah? Like who?”

John then spins a tale about the sleazy middle-aged man with snake-skin boots and the old lady always in the same booth nursing a glass of scotch – both incredibly improbable, but John gets points for imagination anyways and it does make him laugh. Plus, it _is_ helping Jack feel better.

“What about Alex, then?” Jack discreetly gestures to the pub owner.

John grins. “He’s North Cardiff Mafia.” When Jack scoffs at the thought, John insists. “Come on, think about it. Handy with a blade, gruff demeanor. Bet he’s killed a couple of his men. And he’s got Yvonne, the trophy wife. He’s _connected._ Plus, he’s got a rifle above the bar.”

“I hardly think that works, or is even real,” Jack dryly says, but John waves him off.

After a few moments of companionable silence John speaks up again. “See, you don’t need your Eye Candy to have a good time.”

Jack doesn’t agree, not really. “Don’t, John.”

“No,” John sternly whispers. “Look at me. I’ll just say one thing – it’s not that there’s plenty more fish in the sea, or that if you love him let him go, and fuck if I’m gonna bombard you with clichés. But what I will say is this: it’s not the end of the world.”

A loud thud brings everyone’s attention to the tinted windows. They could see a silhouette of a man at the doors, hand tapping at the glass.

“Sorry, we’re closed,” Alex calls out. The man groans in response.

Jack and John share a chuckle. “Pisshead,” John snorts.

 

The couple is still there outside the Hub, making out. Jack snorts as he and John stagger onto the sidewalk, singing _White Lines_ in a probably off-key tune. Oh, well.

(Had Jack turned around to look at the couple again when he heard a gross sounding squelch, well, he’d probably see the man doing a good physical impression of Nearly Headless Nick as the woman continues to nibble his neck.)

They try to be quiet, considering it’s the dead of night, but fail when they laugh at a clearly drunk man shuffling heavy on his feet and groaning loud enough to echo through the street.

Soon, the two inebriated men stumble into the house and the first thing they do is to bring out Jack’s old records and record player. Of course, they should have taken into account that Owen was sleeping upstairs and wasn’t going to appreciate the noise they were making.

Only after Owen has thrown his record out the window does Jack notice him.

“Hey!” Jack exclaims. “That was the second album I ever bought!”

His housemate glares at him poisonously. “It’s _four_ in the _fucking_ morning!” Owen snaps back. “And _some_ people would like some fucking _sleep_!”

“It’s a Saturday!” Jack says. “You always sleep in on Saturdays anyways!”

“No, it’s not,” Owen grits out. “It’s _fucking_ Sunday, and I have to go to _fucking_ work in four _fucking_ hours, because every other _fucker_ and their _fucking_ mother is _fucking_ ill and I have to _fucking_ do my job to make them _fucking_ feel better! Now can you see why I’m so _fucking_ angry?”

“He’s always angry,” John mutters from beside Jack. Before Owen can punch his friend, Jack intervenes.

“Hey, okay!” he says, hands up and ready to push them away from each other. “Okay, Owen, look. Sorry, but we’ve had a couple of drinks. We split up with Ianto tonight.”

Owen takes a look at Jack’s less than stellar appearance and lets out a large breath. “Just keep it down, yeah?” His tone is rather sympathetic.

As Owen turns to walk away though, John can’t bother to shut up and instead snorts out, “Prick.”

Immediately, Owen freezes, voice dangerously low as he asks, “What was that?”

Jack is sending a huge warning look at his friend that John, thankfully, gets because he backtracks and replies with a “Nothing!” Of course, that’s not good enough--- Owen spins around and aims a punch at John that has Jack scrambling to pull them apart before one of them draws blood.

“Hey, stop it!” Jack shouts. “We’re friends!”

“ _He,_ ” Owen barks back, “is _not_ my friend. He’s a fucking stupid _arsehole_.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” John asks indignantly.

“It means why don’t you _fuck off_!” Owen glares at John, who has the gall to look amused. “You wanna live like an animal? Live in the _shed_ , you thick fuck!”

Jack, out of loyalty, jumps in defense for his friend. “Oh, leave him alone!”

It only succeeds in Owen turning his attention to him – which was less than ideal, considering the day Jack’s had. “Stop defending him, Jack! All he ever does is hold you back!” Owen exclaims. “Or is it easier having someone around who’s more of a loser than you? Good looking as you are, you’re not going anywhere in life!”

“What’s that supposed to mean?!” Jack glowers back at Owen.

Owen just snorts and points sternly at Jack. “You know what I mean. Even an idiot could see it was Ianto who did the dumping! Sort your fucking life out, mate, or he won’t even look twice at you anymore.” At the thought of that, Jack’s stomach drops and _dammit_ , that was a low blow.

“Got bitten by a cat, Harper?” John pipes up, staring at Owen’s bandaged hand with raised eyebrows.

“Didn’t I tell you to fuck off?” Owen grumbles. “And it’s nothing, I got mugged at the carpark by some crackheads. One of ‘em bit me.”

“Why?”

“I don’t know, I didn’t bother to ask!” Owen scowls. He starts to walk back to the stairs, pausing to look at the front door. “I’ve got a splitting headache and your stupid bastardization of hip hop or pop or whatever isn’t helping. And the front door is open, again!” He slams it shut.

As Owen goes back to bed, John rolls his eyes and sighs before crashing on the couch. “It’s electro, that twat. Next time I see him, he’s dead.”

But Jack isn’t listening. He stares blankly at the floor for a moment or two, then makes a decision. Jack wobbles to the kitchen and dining area, momentarily pausing to play the message Ianto left him earlier that day.

Beep. “ _Hello, Jack, it’s me. I’m going to be a bit tied up today, so when you book the table can you make it for eight rather than seven? I’ll try you at work. Bye._ ”

Beep. “ _Hello, pickle. It’s me, Mum._ ” His mom, right. “ _Dad mentioned you might be visiting tomorrow which would be lovely. Will you be bringing Ianto with you this time?_ ”

Jack freezes at his lover, _ex-lover’s_ name. He picks up the marker and starts writing on the whiteboard as determined as he can.

“ _Only we can’t wait to meet him finally,_ ” his mother continues on. “ _And also I was wondering if he wanted anything special for lunch? These days a lot of people don’t eat meat, you know._ ”

Jack knows, because Ianto is one of those people. Some traumatic camping trip he had when he was a teenager put him off even just looking at raw red meat. He stumbles back and lands on a nearby chair, suddenly exhausted from the day, and immediately falls asleep.

The first thing he sees when he jolts awake that morning is the picture he and Ianto took on their third date taped on the fridge. Beside it is the second thing he sees – it’s their memo board, filled with Jack’s unmistakable drunken scrawl.

_GO TO MOMS_

_GET IANTO BACK_

_SORT LIFE OUT!!!_

The first and third ones were a given, but the second one was of utmost importance. Groggily, he stands up and head to the living room, where he’s sure John is. And true to his expectations, his friend is sprawled across the couch, half-asleep.

“John! You want anything from the shop?” He lets out between a long yawn.

“Cornetto,” John grunts in reply.

Not even bothering to change out of the clothes he’s worn since yesterday, Jack heads out of the house. The streets are strangely quiet and empty for some reason. He trips on a curb while staring at the hole on the windshield of a car that was just washed yesterday, and Jack shakes his head sympathetically to the owner. The door of a house is wide-open, and a jogger speeds past him in a blur. Jack enters the shop, rather empty for this time of the morning, and instantly heads for his coffee. He nearly slips on something slick, but gracefully rights himself and picks up John’s ice cream with no problem.

“Rupesh!” Jack calls out to the shop owner when he notices the absence of the daily newspapers. “You got any papers?” When no reply is forthcoming, Jack shrugs to himself and drops the appropriate change on the counter before leaving the shop.

(He doesn’t notice Rupesh a few feet back, gasping heavily and stiff on his feet. Neither does he notice with the people on the street in the same condition.)

Jack slumps back on his couch and takes a long sip of coffee. Absentmindedly he laments the fact that it’ll never compare to what Ianto can brew, but it keeps him awake and it’ll have to do. John must’ve bothered to get up and do something since he’s not on his usual spot on the couch, so Jack puts his feet up the table and turns on the telly.

“ _…No official comment but religious groups are calling it Judgement Day. There’s—_ ” The news anchor says before Jack cuts him off by changing the channel.

“ _…Panic on the streets of London—_ “ Some singer. Huh, next.

“ _…Number of reports of—_ “ News again. Next.

“ _…Serious attacks on—_ “ Football, was never really a fan of it. (Rugby, on the other hand, Jack had some good memories of that, courtesy of Ianto.) Next.

“ _…People who are being—_ “ Another news program. Really? Next.

“ _…Eaten alive._ ” Was that a cheetah or a leopard? Either way, poor gazelle. Next.

“ _Witness reports are sketchy_ ,” the fourth news anchor he’s seen says solemnly. “ _One unifying detail seems to be that the attackers appear to be—_ “ Next.

“ _…The sensational chart-topping—_ “ Wait a minute. Back.

Jack leans forward to pay more attention to the newscaster. “ _…Or ideological connection between those committing the atrocities—_ “

“There’s a girl in the garden,” John’s voice comes out of nowhere.

“ _…emergency services…_ ”

“What?” Jack looks around and sees John wrapped around the curtain and looking out the window. His friend turns to Jack and points outside.

“A girl. In the garden. Do you need me to repeat that in Klingon?”

“ _…The armed forces will be called in to provide backup and assistance. Scientists are still trying to establish the nature of the phenomenon and are unsure as to the…_ ”

Jack stands up, giving John a frown before looking out the window himself. There _is_ a blond girl in the garden with her back turned to them. Jack and John look at each other. _Huh._

 

“Excuse me,” Jack calls to the girl. He and John stand outside, a couple of feet away from their trespasser. “Excuse me, miss. Hello?”

Let it be said that John isn’t the politest man in the world. He had no qualms about throwing a pebble at the girl’s back. “Oi!”

The girl turns her head slowly, revealing a sickly pale face and drooping eyes as she let out heavy breaths. Pity, she would’ve been rather pretty if not for that. Jack and John stare at her uncertainly.

“Oh my god,” Jack says, frowning.

John snorts and grins at him. “She’s so drunk.” And they both snicker to each other while the girl struggles to approach them.

“How much have you had, love?” John asks, then notices how she seems to be going directly for his friend. “Oh! I think she likes you.”

“Shut up,” Jack protests playfully before smirking. “It’s the jawline. Once seen, forever yearned.”

“She wants to cuddle!”

“I’ve just come out of a relationship.” Then the girl practically tackles Jack to the ground, and even though he’s laughing, the sounds coming from her are _weird._ “John, do something!”

“Wait here. Two seconds!” John runs back to the house, leaving Jack struggling to keep the girl’s face away from him. There’s something strange about her face he can’t put a finger on, but it’s making him uneasy and---

“And, hold it there!” Jack and the girl turn their heads towards John, just a second before a flash appears. The bastard took a picture!

“John!” Jack glares. “Just get her off me!”

John rolls his eyes and helps him pry the girl off his arms. Doing so lets him get a good look at her face, and he frowns. “What’s up with her eyes?”

But the girl doesn’t answer, opting to stumble towards them again.

“Now, seriously…” Jack glances at her work nametag, “Mary, I’m warning you. I’ll have to get physical, I mean it!” She barely wraps her hands around Jack’s neck when—“Look, just fuck off!” And he pushes her.

She falls and gets impaled on a short upright metal pole, blood splattering around her. Jack’s certain he’s killed her, _shit_ , but then she _gets back up again_ , big bloody hole on her torso and all.

What the actual _fuck_?

“I think,” Jack says, his throat dry, “we should go back inside.”

John makes an affirmative noise and they turn just in time to see a big man, skin gray and mouth bleeding, approaching them.

Jack’s day is starting to turn into a bad one.

 

“Jack, what’s going on?” John’s usual cool self is crumbling and he’s getting a little agitated. Jack’s calling 999, or trying to, because _no one’s_ picking up.

“Shit,” Jack breathes, “it’s engaged.”

“How about an ambulance?”

“It’s _engaged_ , John.”

“Fire engine?”

“It’s one number and it’s busy!” Then Jack frowns. “And what do you want a fire engine for?”

John shrugs in reply, still staring at the curtain-covered window. “Anything with flashing lights, ya know.”

Jack rolls his eyes and tries to get through 999 again. “Are they still out there?” he asks, nodding towards the window. John takes a look, parting the curtains, only to see both the girl and the man pawing and snarling at the window. Quietly, he covers it again.

“Yep.” He looks at his friend. “What’re we gonna do?”

Jack gives up on the phone and runs a hand through his hair. Ugh, he needs a shower. “Have a sit down?”

They fall back onto the couch, television still on the news anchor Jack last stopped at.

“ _There are reports of chaos on the motorways as thousands of people attempt to flee the cities._ ” The anchor reports and lists various highways that were clogged with people or closed.

“Do you think this is the same thing?” John whispers to Jack. Jack just looks at him. Unbeknownst to them, someone is slipping through their unlocked door.

“ _The Home Office is urging people to stay in their homes and await further instruction. Ensure all residences are secure with all doors and windows firmly locked and barricaded---_ “ At that, the two turn to each other in dawning realization and look up at a loud wheezing sound. There is a dead and bloodied one-armed man standing over them. They do the only rational thing a man would do.

They scream.

They scramble to their feet and keep the coffee table between themselves and the- the thing. John starts throwing his empty beer cans at the man, Jack soon following the action.

“For God’s sake, he’s got an arm off!” Jack shouts as he progresses from throwing cans to throwing _anything._

“Keep throwing!” John shouts back. They’re quickly running out of things to use as projectile and when Jack uses a bloody _pillow_ to throw, John takes the matter to his own hands and smashes his glass ashtray to pieces on the man’s head.

The man falls down, _dead_ dead.

“I’m,” Jack wheezes out, “gonna shut the front door.”

 

Door securely shut and locked, Jack goes back to the living room and grimaces at the corpse.  
Then their windows break, the arms of the two outside reaching into the house.

“ _The attackers can be stopped by removing the head or destroying the brain._ ” The anchor says on the telly and they both turn to stare at it. “ _I repeat, by removing the head or destroying the brain._ ”

John grins.

“Hey!” John calls out while Jack drops a basket of random stuff they can throw at them. They’re outside, ready to confront the man and girl. His friend reminds him to aim for the head and things start flying.

They’re not that good at aiming, it seemed, because soon they found themselves out of things to throw and with two people still coming at them.

“What now?” Jack asks, eyes still on the pair in front of them.

“Get more stuff,” John shrugs, looking around. From the corner of his eye, he could see the shed and he considers it. “What’s in there?”

Jack looks to where John’s finger is pointing and frowns confusedly. “The shed? Dunno, it’s locked. It’s always been locked.”

John’s still thinking about the shed when he sees the record Owen threw hours ago. He picks it up speculatively, and throws.

“Aw, come on! That’s the second album I ever bou—“

The record hits the mark and pierces through the skin of the man’s head. Jack and John share a look.

Good enough.

“Okay, some of these are limited—“ Jack starts after opening his box of records but John just slips one out of its cover and throws it at the two dead guys. “John! What was that?”

“Blue Monday.”

“That was an original pressing!”

John sighs, “For fuck’s sake.”

They continue to go through the albums, John graciously asking which ones to throw first.

“Purple Rain?”

“No.”

“Sign O’ The Times?”

“Definitely not.”

“The Batman soundtrack.”

Jack pauses, thinks, and shrugs. “Throw it.” John gleefully does, but it misses. After a muttered curse, he looks for another one again.

“Dire Straits?”

“Throw.” That one hits the girl on the side of the head and a loud crunch makes Jack wonder if that broke her neck or something.

“Stone Roses?”

“No.”

“Second Coming?” John raises an eyebrow at Jack. Jack pouts.

“I like it.”

“Ah,” John says triumphantly and holds out an album. “Sade?”

“That’s Ianto’s.” Jack remembers, and he’s starting to wonder how his young ex was doing. He severely hoped he was okay.

“He dumped you,” is all John says before throwing it at the man. It hits and shatters to pieces, and Jack’s own patience snaps as well.

“Forget this, I’m going to the shed.” He marches up to the dilapidated structure (“But you said it was locked!” John exclaims) and kicks the door down with force. It gives easily.

Seconds later, Jack is armed with a cricket bat and John with an old shovel.

“Which one you want, girl or bloke?” John asks casually. Jack just grins back toothily.

“You know me, I go for either.”

And they attack.

 

Minutes later, they’re back on the couch, Jack drinking what’s left of his coffee and John finally eating his ice cream.

John pauses from licking his treat and looks at Jack’s shirt. “You’ve got red on you,” he points out, and Jack slowly looks at his friend with a ‘no shit, Sherlock’ expression. Both their shirts are splattered with blood, and Jack is pretty sure he has some on his face too.

“ _People receiving bites have experienced headaches and nausea and developed symptoms,_ ” the newsman tells them. “ _If you know someone who has been bitten, it is absolutely essential that you isolate them immediately._ ”

At the word bitten, the two of them look at each other, then up to the ceiling where the second floor is.

Where _Owen_ is.

“Owen?” Jack calls out from the foot of the stairs a second later. “Owen, you there?”

“Why don’t we just go up?” John asks, moving towards the stairs, but Jack stops him immediately.

“We can’t go up there,” he says. “He might be one of _them_ or well, he might still be annoyed. Owen?” He tries again, but he’s met with silence. “Maybe he went to work…”

“Well, how come he didn’t drive?” John plucks Owen’s car keys from where they’re hung, still eating his ice cream. “His keys are still here.”

“Maybe he got a lift; he did say he wasn’t feeling well.” Jack pauses, then tries another time. “Owen?”

Then John adds, “Oi, twat!”

No one replies to that, and they both agree that their housemate isn’t in.

“You got a fag?” his friend requests as he finishes up his snack.

“No, I’ve given up.”

John snorts. “Since when?”

“Since—“ Jack jumps in remembrance and sprints to the telephone.

 

“Come on,” Jack mutters as he simultaneously puts on his jacket and waits to get through to Ianto’s phone. “Dammit, he’s engaged.”

“That was quick.”

“John!” Jack scowls. “This is serious!” Before he can dial again, the phone rings and Jack answers it immediately. “Ianto!”

“ _Jack!_ ” his mother exclaims through the phone.

“Mom! I was gonna call you.” Jack says. “Are you okay?”

“ _Yes, yes._ ”

“Are you sure?” he insists.

“ _Well, some men tried to get into the house._ ” Jack inwardly curses at that.

“Are they still there?”

“ _I’m not sure… We shut the curtains,_ ” she says nervously. “ _I thought about calling the police, but I didn’t want to cause a fuss._ ” Honestly, his mother was too kind for her own good sometimes.

“Are you okay, though? Did they hurt you?”

“ _No, I’m fine! I’m fine!_ ” She laughs, but there’s an anxious tone in it.

“Mom…”

“ _Well, they were a bit…_ ” His mother pauses. “ _Bitey_.”

Fuck.

“Mom, have you been bitten?” He hopes to God she hasn’t, _please not her._

“ _No,_ ” she breathes. “ _But Bilis has._ ”

Oh, well. That’s a big relief. “Okay, then.”

John moves beside Jack, whispering, “Has she been bitten?”

“Nah,” he shakes his head in reply. “But Bilis has.”

“Oh, okay, then.”

Jack brings all his attention back to his mom. “What state is he in?”

“ _He’s fine, a bit under the weather._ ”

“I see…” Jack frowns.

“What’s the deal?” John asks.

Jack lowers the phone and covers its mouthpiece and tells John, “We may have to kill my stepdad.” He brings the phone back to his ear. “Listen, mom, you’re not safe there. I’m coming over to get you, alright?”

“ _Oh, Jack! I told you I don’t want to cause a fuss._ ”

John brings his mouth closer to the phone and fiercely exclaims, “We’re coming to get you, Estelle!”

 

“Okay,” John says determinedly, turning the shovel in his hands, “so what’s the plan?”

Jack thinks. It takes a few moments of pacing back and forth for an idea to sprout out, and then nods to himself. “Right. We take Owen’s car, we drive over to Mom’s, we go in, we take care of Bilis (I’m so sorry, Bilis)… then we grab Mom, go over to Ianto’s place, hole up, have a cup of coffee, and wait for all this to blow over.”

It’s a good plan, of course, but apparently John doesn’t think so. “Why do we have to go to Eye Candy’s?”

“Because we do.”

“He dumped you.” Yes, as if Jack didn’t know that.

“I have to know if he’s alright.”

“Why?”

“Because I _love_ him—“ Jack slips, and the declaration takes John and _him_ by surprise. Because with all of his relationships, Jack Harkness did not do _love_ love. Sure, he liked or loved them all well enough in a different way, but this kind of love meant something more… _significant_. He knew he meant it as being _in love._ It meant Jack Harkness is _in love_ with Ianto Jones.

Well, shit. _Fuck_.

John just makes an incredulous sound. “Alright, _lame_.” Jack shoots him a look, but John is unapologetic. “I’m not staying there, though. If we hole up, I want to be somewhere familiar, I wanna know where to exits are, and I wanna be allowed to smoke.”

“Okay…” Jack sighs and rethinks their plan. “Take Owen’s car, go to Mom’s, deal with Bilis, grab Mom, go to Ianto’s, pick him up, bring them back _here_ , have a cup of coffee, and wait for all this to blow over.”

“Perfec—“

“No, wait,” Jack frowns. “We can’t bring them back here. It’s not exactly safe, is it?” They have a broken window and one of them has already gotten in, despite it being because they left the front door open.

“Yeah, and look at the state of it.”

Jack looks around and grimaces at the mess. One look at it and Ianto would be itching to tidy up the whole place from top to bottom, and there was no need to stress him in this situation. He sighs. “Where’s safe? Where’s familiar?”

John thinks along. “Where can I smoke?”

It hits them both at the same time.

“Right,” Jack grins. “Take car, go to Mom’s, kill Bilis, grab Ianto, go to _the Hub_ , have a nice cold pint and wait for all this to blow over.” He taps the cricket bat on his hand. “How’s that for a slice of diamond?”

“Oh, yeah!” His friend smirks back.

“ _To recap, it is vital that you stay in your homes._ ” The newsman is still on. “ _Make no attempt to reach loved ones and avoid all physical contact with the assailants_.”

“You, man,” John declares, “don’t know John Hart and Jack Harkness then. Because we are gonna fucking _rock_ this shit.”

 

“Yeah, I can see it,” Jack tells his friend while looking out the mail slot of his door to see Owen’s car. “It’s just outside.”

“Any zombies out there?”

Jack turns to glare at John. “Don’t say that,” he hisses.

“What?” John asks, genuinely confused.

“ _That,_ ” he says. “The zee word. Don’t say it.”

“Why not?” John frowns. “And at least say it as _zed_ , for God’s sake. American father or not, you grew up here! It’s weird enough you still manage to have an American accent, but no need to adopt their terms too.”

“Because it’s ridiculous. And my English is irrelevant!” He pauses. “Though I did keep the accent to annoy Bilis. And it suits me.”

“Alright,” John shrugs. “Are there any out there, though?”

Jack peeks out again. “Can’t see any.”

“Maybe it’s not as bad as all that.”

But then Jack looks over further to the side and sees a number of… _zombies_ standing around. “Oh, no, there they are.” Jack stands up, bat in hand, and nods to John. “Okay, let’s do this, yeah?”

“Yeah?” John echoes, a grin starting to form on his face.

Jack smiles back. “Yeah!” Then stops. “I gotta go pee first.”

He’s heading to go up the stairs when John pipes up, “Oh, can I drive?”

“What?”

“I’ve always wanted to drive Owen’s car.” John pouts, trying to look innocent. “I might not get another chance.”

Jack just rolls his eyes and throws the keys at his friend, “Okay.” He ignores John’s gleeful cheer and heads straight for the bathroom.

After he’s pissed and washed his face (and taken off his awful uniform nametag), he checks himself out in the mirror. That’s when he feels his inner warning bells blaring in his mind. Cautiously, he angles the mirror and his heart practically stops when he sees it.

There’s an Owen-shaped figure behind the shower curtain.

As quietly as he can, he turns and approaches the shower. He swiftly pulls the curtain to the side and ends up staring straight at a pale, white-eyed and definitely zombified naked Owen. Jack shuts it immediately.

He really could’ve done without the naked part.

“Sorry, Owen!” Jack exclaims, hurriedly backing away. “Listen, we’re gonna borrow your car, okay?” He lets out a shout when Owen’s bitten hand emerges from between the shower curtains, reaching for him. “We’ll bring it back! And, uh, if you’re feeling better later,” Owen steps off the shower with a gasping groan, “we’re- we’re going to the pub. You’re more than welcome to, uh,” Jack gulps, eyes at Owen even as he’s grasping for the doorknob behind him. “Join us?”

Owen looks like he’s about to pounce, so Jack immediately leaves the bathroom and shuts the door before running down the stairs. John is leaning against the rails of the bottom half of the staircase.

“Harper’d be so pissed off if he knew I was driving his car.” John smirks as he spins the car keys in his hand.

“I don’t think so,” Jack mutters and goes straight for the door.

“Jack,” John whispers while running after his friend, “which button’s central locking?” But Jack doesn’t get to answer because a football hits him right on the head, and the culprit behind it is the same kid from yesterday. Who is now a zombie kid. Wordlessly, John presses what he _thinks_ is the right button, but all it does it make the car alarm beep loudly, and now all the other zombies have turned their attention to them. John scowls. “Oh, cock it!”

They scramble into the car and once the doors are shut, Jack takes the time to run his eyes through all the zombies surrounding them. There’s Rupesh the shop owner, the guy who was cleaning his car the other day, the kid, of course, and hey, that’s Owen coming out of the house. Still naked.

Jack commands John with one word. “ _Drive._ ”

John gladly speeds through the street.

 

“ _The Church of England has joined other extremist religious groups in proclaiming this ‘a sign of a coming apocalypse,_ ” a woman’s voices says through the radio. Jack looks out the window and sees nothing but almost empty streets, a couple of zombies, and the occasional family fleeing from an undead relative. “ _Downing Street is refusing to be drawn into a religious debate. The bodies of the recently deceased are returning to life and attacking the living._ ” A body bag in an open ambulance is wiggling and on the other side, zombies are walking across the local cemetery.

John pulls out a cassette tape. “Let’s put something else on, yeah?” He grins at Jack, inserting the tape into the car.

“What are you doing?” Jack exclaims, then he sees someone right ahead of them and adds, “John, look out!”

John doesn’t have time to swerve from their path, instead hits the person dead on before managing to hit the brakes. They look back as soon as they stopped. “I think we hit something.”

Jack looks at the side mirror and grimaces. “Or _someone._ ”

They quietly reverse the car until they stop beside the man they hit. Who is probably not alive anymore, considering the blood on his head and the really twisted angle his leg was in. Still, it was polite to ask.

“Uh, are you alright?” Jack asks, making a face at the sight of the man.

“Come on,” John nudges Jack. “Let’s just go.”

But he doesn’t relent, calling out, “Hello?”

“He’s gonna be dead either way.”

“That’s not the point, John.”

Before they could bicker any further however, they hear bones creaking and a low growling. The man is getting up, reaching towards them with a rasping voice.

“Oh,” Jack grins. “Thank God for that.”

 

They reach Jack’s parents’ house in no time after that. Just as they’re driving up, John whistles at the sleek, black SUV parked in front of the house.

“Ah, hello,” John drawls, raking his eyes over the vehicle. He may be more of a sports car man, but for a Range Rover SUV, it was _nice_ , bulk and all. “You didn’t say Estelle had a car like _that_. I’d like to take that for a spin, myself.”

Jack shrugs, looking around the street to see if there were incoming zombies. “Yeah, well, it’s Bilis’. Modified it and all. He won’t let _anybody_ near it. Seriously, I dropped a crisp in it once and he chased me around the block with a stick.”

“Modified, you say?” John peered at it with more interest. “Well for an old codger, he did a bloody good job. Looks better than any SUV I’ve seen.”

Jack doesn’t pay much attention to his friend, however. “It seems pretty clear. We should go now.”

John gets an idea. “Why don’t I,” he turns to smile innocently at Jack, “stay here?”

He doesn’t buy it for a second, though, and raises his eyebrows at his friend instead. “What?”

“You know, look after the car. If there’s any problems,” John pats the car honk, “I’ll honk three times.”

Jack doesn’t have time to argue, so he relents quickly. “Okay, okay,” and gets out the car, running for the door.

“Don’t forget to kill Bilis!”

One press of the buzzer and he’s inside of his house, being enthusiastically hugged by his mother.

“Hello, dear!” Estelle beams at her son. “Oh, you’ve got red on you.” She pulls out a tissue from her pocket and wipes the dried blood from Jack’s neck.

Jack takes the coddling in stride and grins at her. “Hi, Mom. Everything okay? Are you alright?”

“Yes, I’m fine.”

“Where’s Bilis?”

They walk further into the house before Estelle points over to the left. “Dad’s in the lounge.”

“He’s not my dad,” Jack mutters but apologizes when his mother sighs exasperatedly.

“Jack, really!”

“John’s outside with the car,” Jack says as they step into the kitchen. “We’ll take you somewhere safe.”

Estelle frowns at her son, confused. “What about the doctor?”

“I don’t think he’s gonna come, mom…” He trails off uncertainly.

His mother tuts. “Bilis won’t want to leave the house, dear.”

“Bilis isn’t…” Jack grimaces, realizing he can’t just tell his mother that her husband is most likely turning into a zombie by now. Instead, he smiles at her reassuringly. “Why don’t you put the kettle on and I’ll deal with Bilis.”

Estelle beams. “Alright.”

“Okay, then.”

“You hungry?”

“Yea—no, not really.”

“I’ll make some sandwiches,” Estelle says cheerfully. Jack just sighs fondly and cautiously walks towards the lounge. His mom adds, “No fighting now, you two.”

Jack sees Bilis, sitting on his favorite chair and facing the television. As quiet as he can, Jack raises his cricket bat and sneaks up behind his stepfather. Bilis has his eyes closed and arm in a sling, and Jack takes a deep breath as he raises his bat high – ready to strike him down. “I’m so sorry, Bilis.”

He is surprised, of course, when Bilis drawls out, “Why?” Bilis turns to Jack. “What have you done now?”

“Nothing.” Jack says, a little tad too defensive. He hides the cricket bat behind him.

Bilis notices, unsurprisingly. “What have you got there? Flowers, I hope.”

“Uh, no…” Jack holds up the bat. “Cricket bat.” His mother nearly gives him a heart attack when she bursts into the room.

“Is that for the jumble, Jack?” she asks, all smiles.

“No.” He pauses. “Yes.”

“Your old toys are upstairs.” Estelle says, picking up empty teacups from the coffee table. “I was going to give them to the jumble.”

“I took them all to the tip, Estelle,” Bilis says. Jack makes a scandalized face.

“You did what?”

Before it could become the start of an argument, Estelle pipes up, “Jack wants to take us somewhere.”

“Don’t be silly.” Bilis immediately shoots the idea down. “I’m not going anywhere.”

“Well, maybe you should stay here,” Jack grins, “and wait for the doctor. I’ll take Mom.”

“But you said the doctor wasn’t coming.” Estelle gives Jack a look.

Bilis just groans, “You didn’t call _the doctor_? I’m quite _fine_ ; I ran it under a cold tap.” Still, Bilis looks pale and sweaty.

“Just to be on the safe side, sweetheart.” She pats her husband’s arm.

“We had our jabs when we went to the Isle of Wight.”

“But, Bilis…”

Bilis just scoffs. “It’s a lot of overblown nonsense – a lot of drug nuts running wild.”

“But I _really_ should get Mom away,” Jack cuts in. “In case they come back, you know.”

“I’m not going anywhere without Bilis, Jack!” Estelle tells him sternly. In the background, the kettle is whistling.

“Mom, look!” he exclaims loudly, and that garners looks of surprise from both his parents. He forces on a kind smile. “How about that tea?”

 

“Mom,” Jack starts as he helps his mother with the tea, “how much do you love Bilis?”

“Two sugars, is it?” his mom asks. He just sighs exasperatedly.

“I haven’t had sugar in my tea since the 80’s.”

“Oh, yes.” Estelle nods and hands Jack a bread knife. “Will you cut me some bread, love?”

Jack quickly obeys, but doesn’t let go of the question. “Look, Mom, how much do you love Bilis?”

“Oh, _Jack,_ ” she says as she pours tea into a cup. “Do we have to go through all that again?”

He looks at his mother’s back. “What would you say if I told you that Bilis has been a bit unkind to me, over the years?”

“You weren’t easy to live with,” Estelle tuts, “even as your mother, I knew _that_.”

“He chased me with a stick!” Jack exclaims. “Then had that menace Abbadon or whatever scratching me to death with one word!” Seriously, he was glad when that cat finally hit the dirt.

“You did call him a _you-know-what._ ”

“Did he tell you that? Of course he did,” he grumbles. “ _Motherfucker._ ”

Estelle gives her son an admonishing glare. “Jack!”

“Sorry, Mother— _Mom_!” His mom has her back turned to him again, and Jack tries another tactic. “Did you know, that on several occasions… he touched me?”

Estelle stops in her actions, then spins to give Jack a stern frown. Uh oh. Backtrack.

“ _That_ wasn’t true,” he admits. “Made it up, shouldn’t have. Sorry.” He looks down for a moment before continuing again. “Look, mom, you don’t understand—“

“No,” she cuts him off, “you don’t understand. Bilis is my husband and has been for the last seventeen years. I know you don’t always see eye-to-eye, but I would at least expect you to respect my feelings. You must be more adult about these things!”

Properly scolded, Jack just nods. He’s about to speak when something hits the doorway.

“Yeah,” Bilis says rasping. “Come on, Jack. There comes a time when—“ Bilis limps towards them. “You just… gotta be a man.”

Jack still has the bread knife in his hand. It’s long and sharp enough to drive through his stepdad’s skull with enough force. He looks at it; it glints back.

 

There’s a car alarm going off when they step outside. Jack leads both Estelle and Bilis to where John was parked, rolling his eyes when Bilis says, “I’m telling you, it’s a fuss over nothing.”

“Hello, John!” Estelle waves at his friend, beaming. John smiles back. Jack notices he’s out of the car.

“Hi, Estelle! Still as beautiful as always!” John declares grandly. The car is suspiciously missing. Then John whispers to Jack, who’s approached him with furrowed eyebrows. “What happened? Why is _he_ coming?” John gestures to Bilis. Bilis, who isn’t a zombie and fully intends to drive the SUV with Estelle.

“It wasn’t as easy as all that,” Jack whispers back. “Anyway, where’s the—“

“Are we following you?” Bilis asks near the hood of the SUV.

“No, it’s probably best if we—“ Jack gestures blindly, then frowns at John. “Right, I was gonna ask you, where’s the car?”

John doesn’t look at him, instead sighs and points to somewhere behind him. “Hmm, I had a little accident with it.” Jack looks over and sees the car – which was the one that’s been beeping – crashed against a roadsign. The steam coming out of the hood doesn’t look like a good sign.

“You were _parked_ ,” he says accusingly at his friend.

John just shrugs, not a bit apologetic. “Yeah.” Then slowly smirks. “Guess we’ll have to take the SUV.”

Jack sighs, a little irritated. He turns to tell Bilis about it, when he sees a pair of hooded teenagers going right after his stepdad. _Zombies_ , damn.

“Bilis, watch out!”

Bilis doesn’t get a chance to move away when one of them gives them a big, bloody bite on his neck. Jack is already running, cricket bat in hand, but he knows it’s too late and if Bilis wasn’t already infected earlier, he is _now_. The zombie had torn a chunk out of Bilis’ neck when Jack finally manages to retaliate.

“Give me the car keys!” Jack commands his stepdad hurriedly. On the other side of the car, John has Estelle protected, and Jack is grateful for that.

Even bleeding profusely and on the ground, Bilis still manages to sound like the stubborn man he was. “You are _not_ driving that car.”

“Give me the car keys!” Jack insists. “Dammit, we need to keep Mom safe!” That makes Bilis hand over the keys in his hand, and Jack throws it over the car to John. “John, get Mom in the car.”

“I’m on it!”

Jack holds out a hand to Bilis to help him up, but the older man shakes his head. “Don’t worry about me, worry about your mother.” Still, Jack is a stubborn bastard himself, so he takes Bilis by the shoulders and drags him into the backseat with him.

In front of him, John is in the driver’s seat, and Jack makes a face. “Maybe I should drive, John.”

“Nah,” John says, putting the key in and turning the ignition. “I’ve adjusted the seat now.”

“Alright,” he sighs, “just be careful—John!” Jack shouts in surprise when John hastily backs up into the street and drives away, heavy rock music playing from the car stereo.

“Can you please turn that noise down?” Bilis says irritably as they sped through the street. His wound is still gushing copious amounts of blood, the bundle of tissues he had pressed against it trying its best to soak it all. Jack grabs a jacket from the underside of the car seat and tries to use that to block the bleeding too.

“Are you alright, dear?” Estelle cries through the loud music. “Would you like another tissue?”

“I’d be fine if it weren’t for that bloody racket!”

Estelle turns to John. “It is a bit loud.”

John flashes Jack’s mother with a charming smile. “Sorry, Estelle,” he says and turns the stereo off.

“You do realize,” Bilis tells John, “that this is a twenty mile per hour zone?”

John just smirks. “ _Oh yeah._ ”

A few miles later, they come to a screeching halt in front of Ianto’s apartment building.

“Here!” John cheerfully exclaims, not the least fazed by their abrupt stop.

“Okay, Mom, this won’t take a sec, alright?” Jack says as he’s surveying the area. Couple of zombies here, _damn_. He grabs the handle, ready to charge the enemies with his cricket bat, when he realizes he can’t open the door. He turns to Bilis. “Have you still got the child locks on?” Jack asks in disbelief.

His stepfather merely raises an eyebrow at him. “Safety first, Jack.”

Jack grits his teeth, and instead with bothering to disable the child lock, opens the car’s sun roof and goes through there.

“Hey, man, watch the leather!” John tells him, but Jack just ignores it.

Soon, Jack has his feet back on the ground and knocks on John’s window. “Listen,” he says through the glass, “keep moving. If there’s any problems—“

“Yeah, yeah,” John waves a hand, “I’ll do the honks,” and drives to circle the street.

The sound of tires screeching against asphalt brings the zombies’ attention to him, so Jack gets his bat ready. Then charges.

He reaches the door easily enough, pressing the buzzer immediately, and anxiously waits for a response. From behind him, zombies approach and just as Jack hears Tosh’s voice offering a tentative, “Hello?” he has to fend them off.

Dammit.

 

“Hello?” Tosh repeats hesitantly, but she and Gwen can only hear grunts and gasps and dull thuds. They look at each other uncertainly and hang up. Rhys and Ianto stand near their side, and the four friends exchange uneasy glances. They’ve been holed up in the flat since Suzie from down the hall tried to eat Gwen that morning.

Struggling grunts from outside their window catches Ianto’s attention and he tentatively approaches it by a few steps, then waits. Soon enough, a cricket bat emerges from below, then a hand, then _Jack bloody Harkness_ pressing his face against the window.

“Guys, can you let me in, please?” He grins at them, and Ianto makes a disbelieving sound.

“What are you doing?” Ianto exclaims, not moving an inch to open the window.

Of course, his lack of a positive response doesn’t faze Jack.“I’ve come to get you!”

Ianto just sighs heavily, and noticing Jack is having a hard time hanging from the ledge, finally opens the window to let his ex-lover in. Jack rolls in and drops on the floor but picks himself up quickly enough. Rhys, Gwen and Tosh flank Ianto’s sides, and together they looked at Jack dubiously.

“Sorry,” Ianto says blankly, “ _what_ are you doing?”

“I’ve come to take you somewhere safe,” Jack replies confidently. He absentmindedly notes that even in a crisis, Ianto still manages to look impeccable in a crimson shirt and tie. If they weren’t broken up, he would have-- 

Rhys sputters. “We were perfectly safe when you arrived!”

“You don’t know that.”

“Well, there were two of them out there a minute ago!” Rhys points out the window. “How many are there now?”

Distantly, they hear glass shatter. “Lots,” Tosh murmurs.

“Lots!”

“Look,” Jack, frustrated, starts. “Believe me; it only takes one of them to know you’re in here.” He then turns to Ianto, who looks at Jack with doubt. “Listen, I tried calling but I couldn’t get through. I had to come up with a plan.”

Then Ianto raises his eyebrows. “Oh,” he says in mock impression, “you made a plan?”

“I don’t care what the telly says,” Jack tries to get through Ianto, “we _have_ to get out of here. If we don’t, they’ll tear us to pieces. And that’s really gonna exacerbate things for _all_ of us.”

“Jack—“

Jack quickly grips Ianto’s arm and looks him in the eye. “Ianto, this isn’t about you and me. This is about _survival_. We need to be somewhere more secure, somewhere underground, somewhere we can stay _alive_.”

Before Ianto can reply, Gwen breathes out, “We’re with you, Jack.”

Everyone turns to Gwen, and Ianto frowns at her. “What?”

Gwen falters. “We’re with you…?”

“I am not going out there,” Rhys pointedly adds.

“Rhys!” Gwen hisses. “I don’t want to be torn to pieces and if you think about it, neither do you.”

“I’m not going if Ianto’s not going.” Tosh quietly says. “However, I do think Jack has a point.”

Rhys looks between the two women. “Then I won’t go if Ianto’s not going, either. Sorry, Gwennie, but I trust Ianto more than that bastard.” He points at Jack. Jack just pouts.

Gwen just snorts. “Well, of course Ianto’s going.”

“I haven’t said anything about whether or not I’m going,” Ianto says, impressively calm at the unexpected pressure.

There is a moment of silence, and Jack shifts on his feet. Ianto looks thoughtful, evidently contemplating the situation from all angles, inwardly listing the pros and cons of going with Jack. The thought of that makes Jack fondly smile in his head.

“Ianto?” Gwen presses impatiently.

“We should stick together, true,” the Welshman says carefully. “And we know some of the people _in_ the building have turned – case in point, Suzie – and we don’t know if the infected are intelligent or strong enough to break in. So, do we want to stay here with the chance that they’ll find a way in, leaving us as sitting ducks, or risk going mobile through streets full of zombies for whatever secure place Jack is talking about, which he seems to have full confidence in?”

Tosh frowns, “When you put it that way…” Gwen also looks contemplative, but it was obvious she had already made up her mind.

Rhys sighs. Neither sounded appealing, but between staying put in a flat lacking food in a building full of zombies and going mobile with a better chance of evading the nasty buggers and maybe getting out of this town… “Alright, Captain Flash, what’s your grand plan?”

Gwen beams at Rhys. Discreetly, Ianto and Tosh exchange relieved glances.

“Great! Knew you would come through.” Jack grins, friendly patting Rhys’ arm. “So, I’ve got a car, but some of you are gonna have to sit in the boot part of it. Don’t worry, I’m pretty certain a body or two could fit in there. Just in case though, anyone have transport?”

“Oh, yes!” Tosh says, and then pauses before sighing sadly. “Oh, sorry. I mean, I’ve passed my test.” 

“It’s fine,” Jack smiles at her reassuringly. “Rhys? Gwen?”

Gwen shakes her head and Rhys replies, “Unless you want a lorry truck full of crates in the back, sorry, no.”

Jack nods. He doesn’t bother asking Ianto, because he knew his ex’s car was stolen by a nutter a few weeks back – who then committed suicide in it. A shame, really, because they made some nice memories in that car.

“Okay, just get any blunt objects together.” Jack raises his cricket bat in example. “And if they come for you, bash them in the head. Keep together, stay sharp and follow me.” He walks past them, towards the door, when Ianto stops him.

“Sorry, what’s the plan?” Ianto asks, confused. Jack just grins.

“We’re going to the Hub.”

 

Fortunately, they slip past Suzie and all the other zombies in the building easily enough. On the other hand, they were just feet away from the building’s front doors and they could see the zombies’ bloody hands pawing at the windows of it. As per Jack’s suggestion, they’ve all armed themselves with something – a hockey stick for Ianto, an umbrella for Gwen, a softball bat for Tosh, and a thick tree branch from god knows where for Rhys.

“Ready?” Jack asks from in front of them, hand grasping the door handle and ready to open it on a moment’s notice. At the group’s reluctant nods, he pushes the door open. “Let’s go!”

Jack expertly knocks off every zombie in his path and the others try to follow suit for each that come near them. There are definitely more of them than there was when Jack went up their flat, but they manage to reach the street easily enough.

“Where’s the car?” Gwen asks.

As if on cue, the SUV halts right in front of them, honking, and John steps out cockily from the driver’s seat. “What’s up, Bikini Corps?”

They give him a very unimpressed look in return.

Soon enough, they get themselves situated well enough in the car – Jack in between Ianto and Bilis in the backseats, Tosh squeezed in the front seat with his mom, and Gwen and Rhys taking up the luggage space behind the backseat.

“Sorry it’s not first class seating, guys,” Jack says apologetically to Gwen and Rhys. He then turns to his stepfather, who is looking paler by the minute. “Bilis, hang in there, okay? John, get there fast.”

He leans forward a bit to face his mother, dragging Ianto forward from beside him as well. “And Mom, I’d like to finally introduce Ianto.” Jack gestures to the younger man chirpily, despite the fact that technically they were still split up. “Ianto, Mom. And that lovely lady beside you is Toshiko, Ianto’s best friend.”

“Hello,” both Ianto and Tosh say to Estelle, giving each her small, shy smiles. Estelle smiles warmly in return and greets them with enthusiasm.

And John makes the car go flying down the street, the stereo on again with loud rock music. All too gleefully, he runs over every zombie in their way – bodies either tumbling over the windshield and roof or being pushed down under the car.

“John!” Jack exclaims after another body is flown to the sky. “Be careful!”

Gwen is looking at Bilis, very concerned. “Is your dad alright?”

“He’s not my dad,” Jack says out of habit.

“He’s bleeding, Jack!”

“I know!” Jack practically growls, eyes fixed on the road. “John, be careful!”

“I thought you wanted to get there fast?” John asks, even as he swerves to deliberately hit another zombie. Jack’s eyebrow twitches.

“Well it won’t matter if we don’t get there in one piece!” Jack smacks the headrest of John’s seat. “And why are we going this way?”

“Chill out,” John snorts, “it’s a short cut.”

“ _That_ road goes straight to the Hub!” Jack shouts incredulously, pointing at a road they had past moments ago.

“Jack…” Bilis groans from beside him, grasping his arm.

“Look, I know,” Jack sighs. “Tosh, please, the music!”

Tosh hastily turns off the stereo and the car is blessed with silence.

“I still don’t actually understand why we’re going to _the Hub_?” Rhys asks from the back.

“It’s a pub,” Jack replies. “It’s safe, it’s secure.”

“They know us,” John adds.

Gwen frowns and glances at them both. “What makes it so secure?”

Surprisingly (or unsurprisingly, Jack thinks), it’s Ianto who answers the question. “Big heavy doors and deadbolts. I recall noticing it a few times, and I know it’s a pub that does a private lock-in for its regulars, if they know the owner well enough.”

“How do you know that?” Gwen blinks at Ianto.

He rolls his eyes. “I know everything.”

“Plus,” Jack grins, “He’s been in a lock-in with us a few times.”

“And there’s a rifle above the bar,” John adds.

“Wouldn’t that be deactivated, though?” Tosh frowns, thinking about it. “An activated gun in a room full of possibly drunk people doesn’t sound safe, does it?”

“I’m telling you, it’s not,” John insists, hitting another zombie with the SUV. “Alex’s connected, Cardiff Mafia and all.”

“That’s ridiculous,” Jack snaps. “You also think dogs can’t look up.”

John snorts. “Well, they can’t.”

“Can’t they?” Gwen exclaims.

Rhys frowns. “I thought they can.”

“They can’t!” John repeats.

“Of course they can—“

“Are you sure?” Gwen asks Jack.

“Yes!” Jack almost roars, but of course Ianto foresaw his rising temper and was running his hand on Jack’s knee soothingly. Jack lets out a frustrated sigh before smiling gratefully at the younger man. Ianto doesn’t speak, but the small smile and light blush on his face were very telling. “Look, guys, the pub is the right place to go. Everything’s gonna be fine, I promise.”

“Jack.”

“I turned it off, okay?” Jack tells his stepfather, but stops when he sees Bilis’ almost paper-white skin and dazed eyes.

“It’s not easy,” Bilis mumbles. “Being a father, it’s not easy.”

“What?”

“You were twelve when I met you,” Bilis continues. “You’d already grown up so much. I just wanted you to be strong and not give up because you lost your dad.”

There is something terribly wrong about this whole thing, Jack thinks. It’s sounding too much like his final words. “Bilis, you don’t have to explain.”

“No, I do,” the older man insists. “I always loved you, Jack. And I always thought you had it in you – to do well. You just need mo- motivation. Some… body to look up to and I thought—I thought it could be me.” For the first time in his life, Jack sees his stepdad hold back incoming tears. “Would you just—take care of your mum?” Jack can only nod, and Bilis actually smiles. “There’s a good boy.”

Bilis closes his eyes and slumps on his seat. Jack doesn’t need to check his pulse to know that he’s dead.

“John,” Jack’s throat is dry, but he manages to speak. “Can you pull over?”

“Jack?” Ianto murmurs worriedly from beside him.

“Two seconds.” John hits another zombie.

“John, _please_ pull over.”

“What for?” John whines.

“John!” Jack shouts, and all the other occupants of the car jump at his harsh tone. “Just pull over!”

“Alright, Jesus.” John hits the brakes and turns the wheel and spins the SUV to a stop.

“What the hell are you doing?” Jack angrily barks after everyone else had stopped screaming.

“Chill out,” John scoffs. “Everyone’s alright.”

“Stop telling me to chill out!” Jack emphasizes his words by punching the shoulder of the driver’s seat. Ianto’s hand is warm and firm on his knee. Jack knows that Ianto knows the current situation, and is grateful for his silent support. “And for your information,” Jack says quietly, “everybody is not alright.”

“What’s wrong?” Tosh twists on her seat to look at Jack worriedly.

“Mom,” Jack chokes out. “It’s Bilis, he’s gone.”

“Where’s he gone?” Estelle looks behind her to see her son and husband.

Jack shakes his head. “Mom, he’s dead.”

“No, he isn’t.”

At his mother’s words, Jack looks at her, startled. Then looks to his side at Bilis. Bilis’ pearly white eyes gaze at him blankly and he groans.

“Get out!” he commands everyone, even pushing Ianto insistently away from his zombified stepfather, but clearly his ex-lover is struggling with opening the door. Gwen and Rhys are pounding at the back door until Tosh finally opens it, her and John making it out easily enough. Jack curses when Bilis starts reaching out for him, struggling to block him with his cricket bat, and notices Ianto is still locked in with him and Bilis. Jack curses some more.

“Hart!” Ianto knocks on the window and glares at John. “Get the child locks!”

“What?” John raises his eyebrows at the younger man. “No ‘please’? I’d do with a kiss, too, if that’s what you’d like.”

“Get it open, John!” Jack shouts in place of Ianto, even as he’s holding back Bilis. “Get Ianto out or I _swear_ —“

Estelle is scrambling on her seat and, with her foot, accidentally turns the music back on, even louder than before. Tosh and Gwen hastily pull her outside.

“Hart!” Rhys glowers at John, who just shrugs back before Rhys finally frees his friend out of the car.

Seeing a free path out the vehicle, Jack pushes Bilis back and uses the momentum to tumble out of the Range Rover and onto the street. Swiftly, he pushes himself back up and shuts the car door to keep Bilis in.

Unfortunately, the blaring music has brought them to the attention of the _other_ zombies. Now they’re surrounded. _Fantastic._

“Now what?” Gwen darts her eyes around the area, anxiously.

With all the courage he can muster, Jack confidently says, “We keep moving.”

“But how do we get Bilis out of the car?” Tosh peers in the SUV and spots their only defense against zombies scattered. “And what about our blunt objects?”

“Well, you go get it then,” John mutters.

“We haven’t got time,” Ianto points out, and sends them a warning look to keep them from speaking any more. Jack is clearly getting stressed now, and Ianto doesn’t think an argument between John and his friends would be good.

Of course, Ianto may be able to silence an army of men with a look (he does, very effectively, in the office he works at), but even he can’t do anything against a mother. So Estelle tells her son, “We can’t leave your dad.”

“He’s not my dad!” Jack cries out, but at the stubborn look on his mother’s face, he revises his words. “Mom, he was, but he’s not anymore.”

But Estelle won’t back down. “I really think we should—“

Jack gently holds his mother at the biceps and desperately tries to explain. “Look, mom! That’s not your husband in there anymore, okay? I know it looks like him but there’s nothing of the man you loved in that car. _Nothing._ ”

The music stops with a click. Jack and Estelle turn to look through the windshield of the car, and see Bilis reaching for the stereo controls – making it clear who turned the racket off. Jack turns to look at his mom again.

“Anyone fancy a walk?”

The others watch Jack stride off, and Rhys blurts out, “You’re seriously not suggesting we do just _that_?”

 

Of course, in the end, they do. 

“Everybody okay?” Jack whispers to the group trailing him. They’re walking through the paths between and behind houses in a line. Ianto is behind him, followed by Gwen and Rhys, then Tosh, then Estelle, and then finally, John.

“Oh yeah,” John says from the very back, phone in hand and texting God knows who. “We’re having a blast.”

“Maybe we should all hold hands,” Gwen suggests. “Make a crocodile.”

“Do you have any idea where we’re actually going?” Rhys whispers harshly to Jack.

“Rhys,” Ianto sighs, “come on.” Rhys takes a look at his friend’s tired expression and apologizes. After a moment though, Ianto lightly jogs up to walk almost right beside Jack and quietly asks, “Do you, though?”

Jack grins reassuringly at him, reaching to touch the small of Ianto’s back and holding him close. “Yeah, totally.”

“Are we close, then?”

Jack hears a squelching sound and as he walks, peers through the gaps of a fence. He winces when he sees Snake-boots from the Hub acting as lunch for a group of kids. “Oh yeah,” he tells Ianto, who’s staring at the scene with a grimace as well. “We’re pretty close.” From behind them, the sound of the others’ disgust lets them know they saw the scene as well.

“Is your mum going to be okay?” Ianto glances back worriedly at Estelle, who doesn’t look like she’s breaking down or in shock, but who knows.

“I hope so, yeah.” Jack sighs, pressing Ianto closer to him. Thankfully, he doesn’t make a move to pull away. “Did you contact your sister?”

“I sent Rhi and her family to Italy for her and Johnny’s anniversary, remember? Spent months saving for it,” Ianto says. “They left Friday afternoon and were supposed to be back tonight.”

“Do you think this is happening there?”

“God, I hope not.”

“Hey, Ianto,” Jack starts, “about last night. I know a lot of things were said, but—“

Ianto finally pulls away from Jack, eyes unreadable and not breaking stride even as Jack stumbles a bit. “You said this wasn’t about you and me.”

“No it’s not—“

“You said it was about _survival._ ”

“It is, but—“

“You’re not just trying to prove something, are you?” Ianto asks. At Jack’s defensive response, he shakes his head. “I meant everything I said last night, Jack. Nothing’s changed.”

The sudden sound of glass being shattered startles all of them. They all paused for a moment, alert and conscious of their surroundings.

“Maybe this isn’t the best time to talk about this,” Ianto murmurs to Jack. Jack nods, turns a corner, and nearly gets a heart attack when he immediately comes face-to-face with another human being.

“Jack!” the person exclaims in pleasant surprise. Jack blinks back.

“Doctor!”

The Doctor beams, even with his hands clutching at a bloody, half-swirling wooden cane. In line behind him are faces Jack is also familiar with.

“Jack!” Rose Tyler grins at him from behind the Doctor. “How’s it going?”

“Surviving.” Jack smiles back easily. A pointed cough from Ianto reminds Jack of his current companions, and also brings the Doctor’s attention to Ianto.

“Hello, Ianto!” John Smith waves. “Long time no see!”

Ianto smiles weakly and amicably nods. “Doctor.”

“Right!” The Doctor claps his hands enthusiastically. “Introductions!” It was more for the benefit of the others, rather than him, Jack knew. “This is my fiancée, Rose.” He grins at the blond woman before continuing. “My friends, Mickey, Martha, Donna, Rose’s mum Jackie, and my best man Harold.” Smith then points to Jack and tells his entourage, “You know Jack, or at least heard of him, and that’s his boyfriend, Ianto.”

“They’ve split up, actually,” Gwen adds in, sadly looking at the pair with her doe eyes.

“Oh, really?” The Doctor looks surprised. He furrowed his eyebrows at Jack, as if wondering what he did to warrant _that_. Jack is a _little_ offended at the assumption. “That’s a shame. Well,” The Doctor drags the word out, “we should scoot. Have you got somewhere you’re going?”

“Yeah,” Jack nods. “We’re going to the Hub.”

“The pub?” Mickey snorts, unimpressed, before Rose nudges him sharply.

Jack sticks his chin out defiantly at the other man, and from behind him, Ianto rolls his eyes. “Yeah.”

“Well,” Rose smiles at him and his group encouragingly, “good luck!”

Jack shares a hug with the Doctor and Rose before their groups head in different directions.

 

Jack kicks open a wooden door and points forward. “See?” He grins at everyone. “The Hub’s just over there.”

“Over… where?” Tosh looks ahead dubiously.

“Over there.”

“Just over there,” Ianto says dryly, “over the twenty garden fences?”

“Come on, Ianto, it’s a shortcut.” Jack practically swaggers halfway to the fence. “Piece of cake.” Jack gets into a jogging start, puts his hands on the fence, jumps over it—the fence falls flat on its side and Jack roughly lands on the ground.

“Ouch.” Rhys grins.

Jack stands back up, not showing any sign of being flustered, and casually pats his shirt and jacket free from dirt and dust. He waves the group over and starts stomping off.

They slip into the backyard of a house, hastily crossing the yard. Estelle, however, slows down and takes a look around with a frown.

“Jack?” she says. “I’m sure Tommy and Diane live around here.”

Estelle turns just in time to see a man in pajamas press his hands against the blood-splattered glass doors of his house.

 

Jack jumps into a lawn that looks like a mini-playground. Ianto, his friends, and John follow moments later after jumping the fence and they group together once they’ve all gone through.  
Jack puts a hand on the top of a small slide and points over to the left. “Now,” he tells everyone, “The Hub is just over that fence, okay? Everyone stay where they are, I’ll—Wait, are we all here?”

“Uh,” Gwen looks over to her three friends and John, and takes a head count. “Ianto, one; Tosh, two; me, three; Rhys, four; Hart, five; you, six.” She makes a satisfied nod. “Yes!”

“There’s _seven_ of us,” Tosh points out.

Then Jack realizes who’s missing when they hear a startled shout from the other side of the fence. “Mom!”

Jack runs towards the fence and in a split second decision, jumps on the small trampoline beside it and easily flies over the fence. “I’m coming!”

He runs over to Estelle’s prone figure on the ground and gently pulls her up. She looks up at him in a panicked daze.

“I don’t think Tommy and Diane do live here,” she says, and her eyes trail towards the house. Jack’s gaze follows and his stomach drops when he sees the glass doors wide open.

“Jack?” Ianto calls from the other side, eyes sharply darting around their surroundings. “Are you alright?”

Suddenly the fence breaks down in front of them and they see Jack being attacked by a middle-aged man.

Ianto quickly grabs a child’s small play chair and smashes the zombie with it, flinging him to the side and giving Jack the opportunity to stand upright. Ianto goes for another plastic chair and braces himself.

“What are you doing?” Jack asks John incredulously. John shrugs at him and continues fiddling with his phone.

“Jack!” Tosh cries and passes him a tennis pole. Jack grips the new weapon approvingly.

“Yes!” he says, spinning the ball strung to the pole, and directs the ball to hit the zombie’s head. The zombie isn’t fazed. “No, that’s rubbish.”

Ianto and Tosh sigh and start making stabbing motions to illustrate what they wanted Jack to do with the pole. It takes Jack a few seconds to get it.

“Oh!” Jack turns the pole so the bottom end was pointed at the zombie, charges, impales the zombie, and pins it right on a tree.

Gwen and Tosh make approving sounds, but it’s the smile on Ianto’s face that really lifts Jack’s spirits. However…

“Hey, I like being the hero and all,” Jack raises his eyebrows at Rhys and John, “but feel free to step in any time.”

“You did alright,” John hums without even looking up from his phone.

Rhys crosses his arms. “Sorry, mate, I was going to, but I didn’t want to cramp your style.” 

Before Jack can retort, Estelle steps in from the other yard with a smile and tissues. Always with the tissues. “I’m so sorry about that,” she tells everyone, sincerely apologetic.

Jack can’t get mad at her, but he is frustrated right now. “Right, okay.” He stomps back over to the slide. “Everyone stay where they are, and I’m gonna check if the coast is clear.” He steps up the small slide until he can see over the fence and stops for a few seconds before coming back down.

Ianto can see something is wrong by the look on Jack’s face. Reluctantly, he asks, “Is it clear?”

Jack shakes his head and answers with a grimace. “No.”

“How many?”

“ _Lots._ ”

On the other side of the fence were the Hub and at least almost a hundred zombies looking for their next meal.

 

“Oh, well,” Rhys wryly says as they peer through the hedges separating and hiding them from the zombies, “this is just _great._ ”

“There are a fair few of them, yes.” Ianto frowns.

Rhys snorts. “I guess Jack has another genius scheme up his sleeve, then?”

“Rhys!” Gwen snaps from beside him. “This is hardly constructive!”

“No, Gwennie!” Rhys sharply whispers back. “This is a waste of time. We should have stayed at the flat!”

“Well, why didn’t you?” John drawls.

“Because of Captain Wow, here!”

Tosh and Ianto shush Rhys from raising his voice, trying to keep themselves unnoticed by the zombies.

“Will you stop it?” Tosh gives Rhys and Gwen a look. “We’ll won’t get anywhere by moaning.”

As if on cue, the zombie pinned to the tree gives a low groan, catching Jack’s attention. And gives Jack a _brilliant_ idea. He spins to look at Gwen and gives her a wide grin. Gwen looks back at Jack, alarmed.

“Right,” Gwen stares at the zombie after a few minutes, hands on her hips. She turns to the group and nods. “Let’s all shake out, get nice and limber.”

“Honey, I’m _always_ nice and limber.” John grins filthily from where he stood.

“Or not,” Gwen deadpans and fondly watches Rhys give Hart a death glare. She points back to the zombie, careful to keep her distance, and starts giving them pointers. “Take another look at the way he moves. Remember, very limp.” She smiles. “Almost like sleepwalking. Look at the face, it’s _vacant_ with just a _hint_ of sadness. Like a drunk who’s lost a bet.”

The rest murmur at her unsurely, but Gwen takes it positively anyways. “Okay, let’s all try, shall we? Ianto.” 

Ianto frowns, before giving his face a carefully mastered blank look and groaning lowly (reminding Jack too much of Ianto’s, well, _other_ groans for comfort), mimicking the zombie’s actions as well as he can.

“Nice,” Gwen watches approvingly. “Good vocal work.”

“I bet he got lots of _practice_ , making sinful sounds like that,” John comments. Jack sharply hits his arm and everyone opts to ignore him.

“Okay,” Gwen then turns to Estelle, who is right beside Ianto. Estelle is looking blankly at a spot behind Gwen, face unresponsive, and doing a very good act of it. “Estelle, that’s excellent!”

Estelle gives a little jump, as if startled, and looks bewilderedly at Gwen. “Oh, sorry, dear. I was miles away.”

Gwen is speechless and goes ahead to the next person, Tosh. Tosh reluctantly does her impression of the zombie. “How about that?”

“Good, good!” Gwen cheers. She turns to her boyfriend expectantly. “Rhys?”

Rhys makes a half-effort, and Gwen frowns at him. “Rhys! It’s mournful, sorrowful, you’re dead and you hate it. Go.” Rhys does better this time, and she accepts it well enough. “Much better. John?”

John takes a drag from his cigarette and nonchalantly says, “I’ll do it on the night.”

“This _is_ the night,” Jack points out to his friend. John sighs, and does a mocking version of a zombie act. Jack laughs at his friend incredulously, asking, “What was that?”

“What about yours? Who died and made you fucking king of the zombies?” John challenges, and Jack returns it with a frown. He does a better impression than John does and his friend relents, “Yeah, that’s pretty brilliant.”

“Okay,” Gwen claps her hands, “Let’s all try together now, shall we?” She sees them all exchange dubious glances, but they were on a tight schedule. “One, two, three—“ Deep breaths.

 

All together in one line, they anxiously make their way through the street full of zombies by imitating them. So far, none have caught on, but Ianto can’t help but pessimistically think that something will ruin their illusion soon enough. The Hub is only a couple of meters away, its dark brick structure looking imposing and safe enough.

Ianto quietly pulls Tosh back towards him when a zombie strays too close to her for either of their comforts, and he sees Rhys do the same for Gwen. Jack is doing well enough, leading the troop towards the pub entrance, with he and John flanking Estelle’s sides.

Either he’s paranoid, Jack thinks, or some of the zombies are starting to catch on, because too many of the ones they passed turn back to follow _them_. Rhys and Gwen urge everyone faster so that their group is quickly right in front of the entrance. Jack tries to open the door, but it’s locked. Shit.

“Alex,” Jack whispers harshly to the small slot on the door. “Alex, Yvonne, are you there?” From the side, the zombified old lady who often is in the bar with them turns her milky eyes towards their group. “It’s Jack and John. We come in all the time.”

“They can hear you,” Ianto murmurs to Jack, getting more nervous by the second.

“We can do the quiz,” Jack pleads to the owners, assuming they were inside.

“They _know,_ ” Tosh adds in, as she sees more and more zombies look towards them.

“Stay in character!” Gwen tells everyone, gripping her boyfriend’s arm desperately.

“I can’t see them,” Jack says, inwardly cursing their luck.

“Jack,” Ianto whispers, crouching beside him, “we have to get inside.”

“Break the window?” Rhys offers. Gwen looks at their surroundings, considering.

“We can’t do that,” Tosh says. “We’ll be totally exposed.”

“We are totally exposed,” Gwen then says. “Rhys is right, break the window!”

Not liking the idea, Ianto asks Jack, “Is there another way in?”

“Well, yeah, there’s a—“ Jack is about to reply when an annoying ringtone pierces through the air. John’s ringtone.

“Two seconds,” John tells everyone, plopping down on a wooden bench and answering the phone, “Hey, poodle.”

Everyone gapes at him. Jack stands up, staring at his friend with a disbelieving expression.

“ _Alright?_ ” They hear a woman say through John’s mobile.

“Yeah, love, I can’t right now, sorry.”

“ _You get anything yet?_ ”

“Nothing,” John replies mournfully. “I’m a bit in the middle of something. Yeah, it’s weird—“  
Jack smacks the phone out of John’s hand in one swift movement.

“Oi, what are you doing?” John exclaims.

“What am _I_ doing?” Jack whispers harshly. “What are _you_ doing, you stupid asshole?”

“Fuck off.”

“You fuck off!” Jack half-shouts and hits John’s arm not too lightly. “Fuck fucking off! I’ve spent an entire life—“

“Jack,” Ianto tugs at Jack’s blood-stained sleeve, but he ignores him for the time being.

“ _Look at me,_ ” Jack says at John, who had been looking down for his phone. “I’ve spent my entire _life_ sticking my neck up for you and all _you_ ever do is fuck things up—fuck things up and make _me_ look stupid. Well, guess what? I’m not gonna let you do it anymore. Not _today_!”

“Jack,” Ianto whispers to him insistently, tapping him on the shoulder. 

Jack spins to look at Ianto, whispering back none too softly, “What?”

Wordlessly, Ianto points to the street in front of them. Where every zombie has their eyes straight at them.

“Oh.” Jack gulps.

“You said something about another way in?” Ianto asks weakly.

“Yeah,” Jack points somewhere to his right. “There’s a—“

Gwen overturns a nearby metal bin to free it from its trash, and with all the strength she can muster, throws it right at the pub’s glass windows.

“No!” Jack nearly pulls his hair out when the glass shatters open.

“Get inside!” Gwen shouts over the moaning of all the zombies.

“No,” Jack shakes his head, mind quickly trying to figure out a new plan. “They’ll just follow us. Keep up the act, I’ll have to do something,” he says determinedly.

Ianto stops him. “What do you mean do something?”

Jack just gives him a tired grin. “Don’t worry, I’ll be fine.” He then grabs Ianto by the shoulders and gives him a soul-searing kiss.

During Ianto’s momentarily shocked daze, Jack runs away from the group and steps up on a bench. “Hello, hello, over here!” he shouts to the zombies. “Come on, that’s it! Over here!” All the zombies bring their attention at Jack, hands up and reaching towards him. “Oh, _shit._ Okay, guys, wait till I’ve gone, then get inside,” he tells his companions.

“Gone where?” Ianto, Estelle, and John all echo at the same time.

“I won’t be long, I promise.” Jack gives them a blinding grin and jumps right into the crowd of those flesh-eating monsters. “Come on, you pasty-faced fuckers! Let’s go, follow me!” He shouts as he leads the crowd away from the Hub’s front entrance. “Come and get it, a running buffet! All you can eat!”

At Jack’s growingly distant voice, they all exchange uneasy looks. They didn’t want to think what Jack’s act of sacrifice meant for him – if he was going to come back to them alive or not.

“So,” Rhys slowly starts, “shall we go in, then?”

They all climb into the pub through the window, except for Estelle, whose eyes are fixed on a bouquet surrounded by trash. It must’ve been in the bin. She picks it up and sees the tag on it.

“Come on, Estelle,” Tosh gently leads her to their makeshift entrance. “Leave those.”

But she doesn’t put them down, only saying, “I think they’re for _me_.”

 

They sit silently in the pub, only daylight serving as their source of light. The curtains of the shattered window are pulled over to give a semblance of a cover, but they stay a good distance away from it anyways. Estelle, Tosh, and Gwen are sitting on chairs while the men stand near them.

“He’s been gone a good twenty minutes,” Rhys comments from beside Gwen.

“Seventeen,” Ianto quietly corrects. He knows this because he’s been counting.

“Either way,” Rhys sighs, “we need to think about what to do with the window. We’re totally exposed.”

“We could block it,” Gwen says.

Tosh frowns at her, “But how will Jack get back in?”

“I’m sure he’ll knock,” John snorts.

Gwen stands up, looking around the pub, and finally sees the light switches. “We should get some lights on.”

Ianto starts, quickly moving to try and stop her, “Gwen, wait!” But Gwen already flips them.  
Nothing happens.

“Power’s off.” Gwen tsk’s.

“That’s a good thing,” Ianto slowly says. “We shouldn’t advertise our whereabouts any more than we already have.”

“No, of course not,” Gwen sullenly pouts. “I’m just being proactive! There’s no lights, no power, and there’s a hole in the window.”

“You did that, love,” John comments from by the game machine.

“ _Somebody_ had to do _something_!” Gwen hisses back. “I don’t think you noticed, _Vera_ , but we were in trouble! Somebody has to take control of the situation and if _none_ of you are prepared to accept that responsibility then perhaps _I_ should!”

Tosh shifts uneasily in her seat and Ianto lays a comforting hand on her. There’s silence for a moment, then Estelle asks, “Will Jack be gone long?”

Gwen huffs as Ianto reassures the older woman, “He’ll be back soon.”

“How could you know that?” Rhys asks, dubious.

“I don’t think he’d leave us,” Tosh quietly says.

“Wouldn’t he?”

“I think what Rhys is trying to say is,” Gwen jumps into the conversation, “ _Ianto_ , how can you put your faith in a man you’ve binned for being unreliable?”

“A man whose idea of a romantic night spot and an impenetrable fortress is the same thing,” Rhys grunts.

Ianto looks at his two friends, frowning, “Look, I know neither of you have ever approved of my relationship with Jack, but I _do_ know that Tosh is right – Jack wouldn’t just leave us here. His plans, while mostly foolhardy and stupid, do work effectively enough most of the time.”

“And what, are we counting this to be one of those times?” Rhys says. “We’re in a pub! What are we going to do?”

“I could get a round in,” John suggest cheerfully.

“You, _shut up_ ,” Ianto tells John. He puts his attention back on the couple, who are both looking agitated and tired – just as the rest of them. “Guys, I’m sure we’re all exhausted and ready for all of this to be over, but we can’t just leave Jack out there. At least wait for him and barricade the window when he gets back.”

“What then?” Gwen crosses her arms in front of her chest. “How long? Days, weeks, a month?”

Rhys then realizes something, choking out, “What about food, what are we gonna eat?”

“Toasties,” Tosh grits out. She’s irritated at this redundant argument already.

“Yeah,” John grins, “there’s a Breville out back.”

“Oh, great, then!” Gwen throws her arms in the air in sarcastic relief. “Saved by nibbles!”

“Must be why Jack took us here before he buggered off, then,” Rhys dryly adds.

“He’s coming back!” Ianto glares at them. Any other day, he’d be amazed just how in-sync Rhys and Gwen were with each other when they were in the same side of the argument, all things considering.

“Why?” Rhys shouts. “Because he promised?”

“Ianto, love,” Gwen tries to sweet-talk the younger man. “Even if he does, do you think his plan will be anything more than sitting and eating peanuts in the dark? Is he just gonna stroll in and suddenly everything’s okay?”

“No, I don’t know, Gwen!” Ianto finally shouts. It startles them all, even Tosh and Rhys who’ve known him for years before any of the others, because Ianto isn’t the shouting type unless he’s reached his boiling point. The last time he did, _well_ … “I don’t know any more than you do. But what I do know is that we’re here now and we have to make the _best_ of it. Because _I_ want to _live_ through this _shit_ of a day in one piece with all of you, and I know you want you and your precious Rhys to do so as well!” Without taking his glaring eyes off a wide-eyed Gwen, he adds in a low whisper, “ _Hart_ , get me a double vodka.”

“Right you are, Ianto.” John immediately goes to do so, and the fact that he calls Ianto by his name (and not his customary ‘Eye Candy’) shows that even he was shaken by the younger man’s outburst.

“I’ll have a drink too, actually.” Tosh sighs, standing up from her seat to follow Ianto to sit by the bar. “Would you like a drink, Estelle?”

Estelle just smiles absently. “Hello.” That makes Tosh a little worried.

“I could do with a pint.” Rhys sighs. He tentatively sits beside Ianto’s tense form and lands a hand on his fellow countryman’s shoulder. “Sorry, mate,” Rhys apologizes sincerely. “It’s just been a long day.”

Ianto lets out a huge breath and gives Rhys a tired smile. “It’s fine. I know how you feel about Jack.”

Gwen, however, is stubborn. “Right, great!” She scowls at everyone. “We’ll have a party and get completely smashed while the whole city gets _eaten_. We’ve got our nibbles, some mini cheddars.” She throws packets of snacks at each of them.

“Gwen!” Rhys hisses at his girlfriend, but she doesn’t relent.

“We’ve got Twiglets, and hey, look, Hog Lumps!” And she throws it randomly in the air, only for it to be suddenly caught by a large hand.

They all turn, and see Jack standing there, as if he hadn’t even left.

“Hey kids.” Jack grins and gives them a wink. “Miss me?”

“Jack!” Estelle beams and rushes towards her son. Jack kisses her cheek and gives her a gentler smile.

“Hello, Mom. Are you alright?” Then he asks the rest, “Everybody okay?” At Ianto’s nod, he lets out a sigh of relief. “Any sign of Alex and Yvonne?”

“No.” Tosh shakes her head.

“Checked upstairs?”

“It’s locked.”

“What’s the phone situation?”

“Dead,” Tosh answers, “same as the power.”

“Okay.” Jack nods, opening the pack of pork rinds Gwen had thrown at him. He looks up from his task to see Ianto in front of him, arms crossed and a small smile playing on his face.

“Nice of you to join us,” Ianto says. There’s obvious relief in his eyes.

“Yeah, well.” Jack grins at him, “I promised, didn’t I?” He offers the snack to Ianto. Ianto just rolls his eyes fondly and takes a piece for himself.

“How did you lose them?” Rhys asks from the side.

“I just gave them the slip,” Jack shrugs nonchalantly. “It wasn’t that difficult. They’re not all that. In fact, I had more trouble in college whenever I had to sneak out of the ladies dorm—“

“Well, how did you get in?” Gwen cuts him off.

“There _is_ a back door.” Jack frowns at her. “I tried to tell you before you _smashed the window._ ”

Gwen is in a mood – that much is obvious – when she scoffs. “But it wasn’t me blowing our cover by having a little tiff with your _wife._ ”

Jack’s eyes throw her a glare. “He’s not _my wife._ ”

“I concur,” John pipes up from behind the bar. “ _Jack’s_ the wife.”

Jack turns indignantly to his friend. “Hey! If anyone’s the wife, it’ll be _you._ ”

“Oh,” John waggles his eyebrows, “but I’ll make a _great_ wife.”

Ianto’s cough prevents Jack from retorting, and he can see that the younger man is a little displeased at their turn of conversation. Jack fancies to think he’s jealous, even a bit. “So,” Ianto carefully asks, “what’s the plan, then?”

 

“Would anyone like a peanut?” Jack asks the silent group. It’s nighttime and dark; they’re sitting collectively in a booth, snacking on nibbles, their table filled with empty alcohol bottles.

There’s an awkward silence, and then—

“Let’s all have sex,” John says, very seriously.

Everyone looks at him bewilderedly before Ianto dryly comments, “And I thought the end of the world couldn’t get any worse.” Rhys snorts to cover a snicker and Tosh bites her lip in amusement at that.

“Aw, come on, Eye Candy,” John whines. Jack is glad he’s separating them both. “End-of-the-world orgy and all that!”

“ _No._ ” From Ianto’s tone, Jack is sure that the young man was glad that he’s separating them, too. He can’t blame John for trying though, because Jack would fancy a shag too before he dies.

Suddenly, a bit of light makes its way through the windows, and Jack jumps up from his seat. “The power’s on!”

“It’s not,” Gwen says with a frown. “I tried it earlier.”

“The streetlights are on.” Tosh points out, looking at the bright windows they’ve blocked with chairs. “It means the grid isn’t out – it’s just the fuses. If someone can flip them back on, everything should work.”

“We can watch television,” Jack gestures to the telly in an upper corner. “See what’s going on around Cardiff and beyond.”

“What about the lights?” Ianto asks, thinking.

“Yes,” Gwen counters to Jack, “We don’t advertise our whereabouts more than we already have.”

“The lights should be on a separate circuit, though,” Tosh says.

“I’ll just flip the mains breakers, then.” Jack shrugs. “It’s quite simple, Gwen.” He goes to the door with a plaque saying ‘PRIVATE’ on it, and enters the hall. There is Alex’s quarters, but a quick try reveals that it is firmly locked shut, so Jack moves on in the dark to where he was sure the circuits were. He squints to carefully look at each switch, flipping a few on.

“Is that it?” Jack calls out to the main room after flipping the last switch.

“That’s it,” Ianto hollers back.

Jack should’ve left everything else alone, really, but he decides to flip another one. That one turns on the street light outside, and Jack sees through the back door’s window something that unsettles him very much.

The zombies followed him.

Hastily, he flips the switch back off and pulls the blinds to cover the window. He ignores the hammering on the door as he swiftly goes back to the others. He doesn’t see the doorknob of Alex’s room twisting and rattling as well.

Jack shuts the door to the hallway, eyes frozen on the floor, and inwardly trying to think of another plan to keep them from getting infected or eaten. He’s trying not to panic, really.

Meanwhile, Tosh is standing near the television and flipping through the channels. Everyone watches as they’re met with only screens saying “STAND BY FOR MORE INFORMATION” with trepidation.

“Rhys,” John walks up to the other man, “have you got a quid?

Rhys doesn’t register the question first, and then absentmindedly goes through his pockets. “Uh, yeah,” He says, handing John a couple of coins.

Tosh is still flipping through the channels when Jack dazedly walks towards Ianto to stand beside him. “Never anything on, is there?” Ianto tries to joke, but when he is met with silence, feels something is wrong. One look at Jack’s face confirms it. “Jack, what’s wrong?”

Jack snaps out of his thoughts and looks at Ianto with almost-hysterical eyes. “I think we might have a bit of a problem.”

“What do you mean?” Reluctantly, Ianto asks.

“They followed me.” Jack swallows the lump in his throat, looking back at the PRIVATE door.

Ianto’s eyes widen a fraction in alarm. “Jack, I thought you said you gave them the slip.”

“Yeah.”

Ianto glances back at their oblivious companions and whispers as quietly as he can, “Well, we’ll just have to be extra quiet then, won’t we?”

Jack nods jerkily. Then they hear a squeak and a few feet away from them John is starting up a game in the game machine and that is _not_ a good thing _at all_. The loud music from the machine confirms it all.

“John, no!” Jack and Ianto shout at the same time in growing horror.

Ianto grabs John away from the machine as it spouts out change from the win, while Jack hastily pulls the plug to turn it off. Still, the damage has been done.

Shadows start appearing nearer the pub windows, and they can hear the shuffling of feet coming towards them. The windows start to rattle from zombies pawing at the glass and low groaning can be heard from outside. There isn’t a doubt as to who had come.

They all move closer together, none making a single sound. They’re trapped.

Jack feels Ianto placing a hand on his shoulder and moves closer to the small comfort. John and Tosh flank Estelle’s sides protectively, and Gwen curls an arm around Rhys’. All accounted for, it comes as a surprise when an extra hand lands on Rhys’ shoulder.

“What the fuck?” Rhys shouts when he takes in the bloodied face of a zombie Alex. He jerks his shoulder away and pulls Gwen with him to maintain distance from the zombie.

“Where the fuck did _he_ come from?” Gwen exclaims wide-eyed, gripping her boyfriend’s bicep enough to hurt.

Everyone freezes when the jukebox starts playing Queen’s _Don’t Stop Me Now_ , of all songs.

“Who the hell put this on?” Jack asks in bafflement.

“It’s on random!” John answers.

“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” Ianto grinds out as they all slowly back away from Alex.

“Okay, Gwen, Tosh,” Jack starts commandingly. “Get Mom somewhere safe. Rhys, kill the Queen.”

“ _What?_ ” Rhys asks, scandalized.

“I meant the _jukebox_!” Jack sees the three hurry to comply with his orders, and thank fuck for _that_ , but the music still plays. “Ianto, John, grab something weapon-y.”

“What about the rifle?” John points over to the gun above the bar.

“It’s not real, John!”

“How about cocktails?”

“What do you mean?” Ianto says over the music.

“The flaming spirits— a bottle of brandy, get a rag in, light it,” John explains. “ _Kaboom._ ”

“But the whole place could go up.” Jack smacks John in the arm.

Ianto then smacks _Jack’s_ arm. “Well what, then?”

They get backed up against a pool table and inspiration hits. Jack rolls and jumps over the pool table to grab the pool sticks. “Well, how about some pool?” He tosses Ianto and John each one.

The Queen song hits its chorus, and the three of them start hitting Alex’s head and upper torso with their sticks – suspiciously to the beat of the song, Tosh and Gwen notice from their seats with Estelle.

The zombie just isn’t going down, however, and it manages to grab Jack’s weapon. Jack stumbles back and lands on his arse, but gets momentum to stand back up again, ready for another assault.

“I can’t find the switches!” Rhys frustratedly shouts at Jack.

“Then get the fuses!”

Rhys runs to the back and immediately reaches the fuse box, randomly flipping switches to try to get the right one. Lights flicker on and off outside, the zombie hoard becoming even more fixated on the Hub building. Rhys flips another one, and the light outside the door beside him goes on, letting him see silhouettes of hands against the glass through the blinds. Rhys freezes when the glass breaks and the zombies start reaching for him so he scurries back into the main room. He narrowly manages to dodge Yvonne, also a zombie, from taking a bite of him before shutting the door.

“Why is Queen still on?” Jack yells at Rhys.

“We have a situation!” Rhys says, gesturing back to the hallway he just came from.

“I _know_!”

“Fuck this!” John throws his pool stick on the ground. “Two seconds.”

“John!” Jack drops his stick as well, opting to push Alex back just enough for Ianto to give him a large hit on the head with a fire extinguisher. He even hoses the zombie with it.

Still, Alex goes for Jack again, and he struggles to keep Alex at least arm’s length away from him.

“Jack!” Gwen calls, taking a dart from the dartboard and throwing it at them. It narrowly misses Jack’s face.

Jack scowls at Gwen. “No!” But Gwen tries again, and this time it hits Alex’s arm. “Okay, yes! Yes, in the head!”

Gwen beams and plucks another dart to throw. Only that one doesn’t hit Alex’s head – it hits _Jack’s_. She gasps as the dart impales the side of Jack’s skull.

“Ow!” Jack screams in absolute pain. Gwen is staring at him, wide-eyed and horrified.

“Jack!” John growls a few feet away. In his hand is the rifle.

Jack catches the gun as it’s thrown at him, ignoring the pain of the dart piercing his skull (for fuck’s sake) for now, and uses it to attack. Alex’s head makes a sickening crunch when the rifle impacts the side of it. With a scream of raw frustration and anger, Jack pushes Alex to the jukebox that’s still bloody playing until his head is buried deep into the machine. Sparks fly and finally the music stops.

No one says anything for a moment, all staring at the destroyed jukebox and the dead pub owner.

“Why the hell didn’t you just shoot him?” John rolls his eyes.

Jack breathes deep, in and out, before turning to his friend. “John, for the last time, it’s—“

_BANG._

The shot hits the wine glasses atop the bar and Jack is thrown aback by the recoil as everyone else jumps in surprise.

“I fucking knew it!” John crows. “What did I tell you? I was right!”

“Okay, fine,” Jack breathes when he’s upright again. He reaches for the dart in his head and steadily pulls it out, a little blood spurting out of the wound. “But dogs _can_ look up.”

 

“Alright,” Jack says after they’ve found the box of bullets for the rifle. Wrapped around his head to cover his head wound is the red tie Ianto had been wearing. “Has anyone fired a gun before?”

“Oh, _yeah._ ” John grins.

“Apart from John.”

“I’m a pacifist,” Gwen declares.

“Okay,” Jack sighs, “apart from John and Gwen.”

“Sorry,” Ianto frowns at Jack, “what was John’s experience?”

“Uh,” Jack glances back uneasily at his friend, who smiles in mock innocence. “He shot his old girlfriend’s ex-boyfriend in the leg once.” Then Jack thinks about it again and frowns. “Or was it her brother?”

“I think you should do it,” Tosh immediately says.

Jack shakes his head. “I think we should _all_ do it.”

“How can six people operate one gun?” Rhys asks in confusion.

“No one has any real experience, okay?” Jack insists. “We’ve only got—“

“Twenty-nine,” John says after counting.

“Twenty-nine bullets.”

“Oh,” John nudges Jack. “Call them shells.”

“Twenty-nine _shells_ ,” Jack corrects himself exasperatedly. “We really need to work together in this. I need someone to help me reload, everyone else to keep a look out. I’ll fire. As Bertrand Russell once said, the only thing that will redeem mankind is co-operation.” He gives everyone a determined look. “I think we can all appreciate the relevance of that now.”

Ianto raises an eyebrow at the quote, and when Jack is near enough, he murmurs, “Was that on a beer mat?”

“Yeah,” Jack gives him a sheepish grin. “It was Guiness Extra Cold.”

Ianto just fondly sighs and smiles at him. “I won’t say anything, then.”

“Thanks.” Jack smiles back, sincerely.

A loud crash brings their attention to one of the windows they’ve barricaded with chairs.

“They definitely want to come in,” Tosh says, looking at the grabby hands with alarmed eyes.

Jack turns to Ianto, giving the young man a small peck on the forehead and tells him, “Get Mom out of the way.” Ianto just nods and rushes back to where Estelle sat. Jack calls out to the others, “You guys, let’s go! John, give me some shells.”

And he starts loading the rifle.

 

“Estelle?” Ianto gives her a reassuring smile. “Would you like to come with me?”

“Oh, that would be lovely.” Estelle beams back, still clutching on the bouquet of flowers, and stands up to follow him. “It’s nice to meet you, finally,” she tells him as he leads her away from Jack and the others, who are loading as many bullets as they can into the rifle. “Jack’s always talking about you.”

That startles Ianto a little bit. “Really?”

“Yeah.” She then gasps in pain. “Ah.”

Ianto gently sets her down on a seat against the wall worriedly. “Estelle? Are you alright?”

Estelle doesn’t answer, instead shakily reaches for something beneath the collar of her shirt. “I’ve got something for you,” she says. With trembling hands, Estelle presents a necklace to Ianto. “Jack’s father gave me this – his real father, I mean. I know it’s rather on the feminine side, but I’d like you to have it.”

It’s a nice necklace, and its history is even more precious. But… “Estelle,” Ianto uncomfortably tells her, “Jack and I have—“

“It seems only right.” Estelle gives Ianto a shaky smile. She then closes her eyes and grimaces in pain.

Ianto notices her cradling her wrist, and with trepidation he turns it to look and sees tissues peeking from her sleeve. Pulling back the cloth, he glances at Estelle’s resigned face and finally peels the tissue from her skin.

On her wrist, a gaping wound starts oozing dark blood.

Ianto gasps and his head flies to look at Jack’s mother in comprehending horror.

“I didn’t want to say anything,” Estelle quietly says. “I thought Jack would be worried.”

“Ianto?” Jack looks at them with a questioning look, mentally asking why they haven’t gone yet. Ianto isn’t sure how he’s supposed to look at Jack in the eye right now.

Thankfully, Rhys suddenly exclaims, “Here they come!”

The barricade they put on the window collapses, and Jack says to them, “Stay behind me!”

“There’s one!” Gwen points.

“Sorry,” Jack smirks at the zombies. “We’re closed!” He pulls the trigger, but nothing happens. “Wha—“

“The safety!” Tosh hastily points out.

Gwen comments, “That happened to me on stage.”

“Oh,” John rolls his eyes at all them, “cock it!”

Jack cocks the rifle, points, and shoots with a bang. He misses, but it was close enough. John grins at him smugly.

“Over there!” Gwen shouts and points to a newly shattered window as Jack takes another shot at a zombie and misses.

“Over where?” Jack cocks the gun again. He shoots again, and this time it hits. Aw, yeah.

“Three o’clock!” John tells Jack, referring to the one Gwen saw. Jack turns a little to the right and fires a shot at them.

Tosh has caught up with their method, of course. “Quarter to twelve!” she shouts amidst the sound of multiple zombies groaning.

“What?” Jack exclaims, shooting at random zombies at this point.

“Eleven forty five!” Rhys says.

Jack groans. “Keep it simple!”

“Top left!” John then exclaims. Jack turns to said direction, everyone following behind him, and pulls the trigger, only for it not to work. “Reload.”

“I was going to!” Jack snaps, working shells into the rifle hastily. A female zombie is rising to enter through the window and Jack looks up just in time to give it a nice, bloody headshot.

“Nice shot!” John whistles.

“Okay, Tosh, Rhys, Gwen,” Jack says commandingly, pointing at the open window they’ve been shooting at. “Let’s block up this window. John, take over for a sec.” He then hands the rifle to his best friend and rushes to his mother.

“What is it? What’s wrong?” he asks. Estelle’s face is getting paler, her expression rather dazed.

“Jack,” Ianto murmurs, “I’m so sorry.”

Jack looks at Ianto’s sad expression and sits beside his mother to wrap his arms around her. “Mom, what’s wrong?”

Estelle smiles weakly at Jack. “I didn’t want to be a bother.”

Jack sees blood seeping through her cardigan sleeve, and pulls it back to see— He immediately covers it again, throat dry. “Mom, I don’t understand.”

“The man in his pajamas,” she gasps out. “I didn’t want to say anything, thought you’d be upset.”

“No, no,” Jack’s voice hitches. “You should’ve said.”

John sees Jack holding his mother close in despair, and knows something is wrong. He frowns. “Hey,” he tells Rhys. “Take over for a sec.” And gives him the rifle before he rushes over to Estelle, Jack, and Ianto.

Tosh and Gwen have also turned their attention to the scene a couple of feet away from them. Rhys asks, “What the hell’s going on?”

“Estelle’s hurt!” Ianto replies.

Tosh immediately runs to them worriedly. Rhys absentmindedly hands the gun over to Gwen and follows Tosh towards the others. “I know first aid!” he calls.

Gwen just stares at the rifle in her hands.

“Mom,” Jack pleads as he lays her down the seat. “Just hang on, Mom. You’re gonna be fine.”

“Jack,” Estelle struggles to say. “I never thanked you.”

“For what?”

She smiles at her son and weakly raises the flowers her hand still gripped. “For these. ‘To a wonderful mum.’” A few tears start dripping down Jack’s face. Estelle wipes a few away. “It’s been a funny sort of day, hasn’t it?”

Suddenly, she freezes, and then starts convulsing. Everyone else silently watches as Jack pleads and cries and sobs over his mother’s body, feeling grief overwhelming them as well. She finally stays deathly still.

The sound of the gun cocking startles them all.

They all turn to see Gwen determinedly standing over them, rifle pointing right at Jack and Estelle.

“What are you doing?” Jack whispers harshly. Gwen flinches a bit, but stands her ground.

“We have to deal with her!”

“Gwen!” Tosh exclaims in an appalled voice.

Ianto is outraged. “For Christ’s sake, Gwen!”

“She’s gonna come back!” Gwen shouts, frazzled. “She’ll change!”

“She’s my mom!” Jack yells back. “She’s not going anywhere.”

“She’s a _zombie._ ”

“Don’t say that!”

Gwen presses her lips together into a thin line. “Move aside,” she barks. “I’m gonna count to three—One… two… three—“

Jack smashes the end of a beer bottle and furiously points it right at Gwen’s neck. “Don’t point that gun at my mom!”

“Jack!” Ianto says. “Calm down!”

However, just as he says that, John shatters the end of his own bottle and points it at Gwen as well. “Don’t point that gun at Estelle!”

“For fuck’s sake, John, don’t exacerbate things!” Ianto says frustratingly.

“What does that _mean_?”

The sound of another glass shouting catches their attention and now _Rhys_ had joined in, threateningly holding his bottle at _Jack_. “Don’t you dare hurt Gwen!” he growls.

Tosh is pale and alarmed at the turn of events, and pleads, “Please, can we just stop and think about this?”

“Tell her to put the gun down!” Jack says at no one in particular.

“Look, she’s gonna change,” Gwen starts vehemently. “You _know_ I’m right. And when she does, she’ll kill _all_ of us.”

“Gwen is right!” Rhys tells Ianto. “That’s what your ex can’t seem to realize!”

Jack gapes at them. “That’s what this is about, isn’t it?” He laughs hysterically. “It’s just- neither of you like me! _He’s_ always hated me and _she_ can’t decide between despising me and wanting to fuck me so now they want to shoot my mom!”

Rhys grinds his teeth. “She’s not your mu—“

“Rhys never thought I deserved him or that I was good enough,” Jack continues, barely aware at what he was revealing to Ianto about his friends. “And we all know Gwen’s in love with Ianto.”

“That is not true,” Gwen immediately gasps in denial. Rhys finally shuts his mouth.

“ _Oh_ , yes it is.” Jack snorts. “You may spend half your time looking at other men like me or trying to find stability with Rhys, but it’s ridiculously obvious what you _really_ feel.”

Gwen shakes her head and insists, “That’s not true.”

“Yes, it _is_ ,” Rhys says quietly. Ianto looks on at everyone with a carefully blank face.

“What?”

Rhys sighs at stares at Gwen wearily. “We all know you only hung out with me and Tosh at college to get close to Ianto,” he says. “And when he knocked you back, _I_ was there to pick up the pieces.” He nods towards a quiet Tosh, who wouldn’t look Gwen in the eye. “Tosh and I’ve come to terms with that, Gwennie. Why can’t _you_?”

Gwen avoids eye contact with anyone, and where Ianto stood says, “Ianto, I want you to know that my feelings for you—“

“Gwen,” Ianto sternly says with a low voice. “There are slightly more pressing more matters at hand here.”

“Yeah,” Jack growls, “like the fact that ‘Gwennie’ is pointing a gun at my mom!”

“I’m not the one who’s being unreasonable, Jack!” Gwen yells back.

“Christ, she’s not dead!”

“She’s _finished_!” Gwen says. “For a hero, you’re quite a hypocrite. I don’t know what I ever saw in you!”

Jack sputters at her in disbelief. “You’re the one who’s gone from Gwen _bleeding heart_ Cooper to-- to serial mother killer!”

“I’m not a mother killer! I’m doing this for our own _good_!” Gwen clenches back. “She’s not your mum anymore, Jack. In a minute she’ll be just another zombie.”

“Don’t say that!”

John makes an affirmative growl. “We’re not using the zed word.”

Then Tosh steps up to the group and shouts, “Please, can we just calm _the fuck_ down!” She pushes the gun to point in the ground and at that, everyone else drops their beer bottles to their side.

“Thank you, Tosh,” Ianto coughs. Then he glares at Gwen, “Now, I can see what Gwen is _trying_ to say—“

“Thank you,” Gwen says unhappily.

“Even if she is being a bitch,” Tosh mutters. John snorts in agreement.

“And Jack,” Ianto turns to his ex and rests his hand on Jack’s neck. “Jack, look at me.” He gives the older man a devastated, sympathetic look and continues, “I can’t imagine how hard this must be for you, but we can’t afford to fall apart. Jack— _cariad_ —I know you don’t want to hear this but—“

They freeze as from the corner of their eyes they see Estelle’s body sit up slowly. They turn at her just in time to see her open eyes – and as they slowly back away – see it milky white. Just like the rest of the zombies.

Gwen hastily hands the rifle to Jack. “You do it,” she nervously says.

Quietly, Jack takes the firearm and stares at it before readying himself to shoot. “I’m sorry, Mom.”

Estelle stares at Jack with wide eyes, too much reminiscent of how she did the same thing when she was alive, and Jack falters.

“Do it!” Gwen exclaims and that makes Estelle growl at her, before her brain decorates the wall with a splatter after a bang.

Jack drops the gun and numbly stares at his mother’s corpse.

“Well,” Gwen says. “I think we’re all agreed you did the right thing there—“

Jack slaps Gwen to the ground and she immediately latches on to the gun Jack had dropped, pointing it right at him. She pulls the trigger, but nothing happens.

“Gwen!” Rhys looks at his girlfriend in disbelief. It was one thing to point a gun on a person that’s already dead, and a whole different thing to point it at their friend’s ex, as much as they didn’t like him.

They’re at a standstill for a while until Gwen scrambles to her feet. “Right, I’m leaving.”

“What?” Tosh asks, alarmed.

“I’m not staying here.” Gwen starts unblocking the door.

“Gwen, don’t,” Ianto’s calm is betrayed by a small tremble in his voice. “It’s suicide.”

“I think you should go,” John adds.

“We will.” Gwen tries convincing them. “We can defend ourselves.”

Rhys stares at her. “What do you mean ‘ _we_ ’?”

She turns to Rhys with a betrayed look. “What do you mean, ‘ _what do you mean we_?’”

“Gwen,” Rhys slowly says. “Opening that door now would be a very, _very_ silly thing to do.”

“What, so you’re gonna stay here with him?” Gwen makes a gesture to Jack’s direction.

“Look—“

“After everything he’s done to us so far?”

“Let me finish!” Rhys roars. “You were the first one who wanted to go! Jack didn’t ask us to come here—we came here for the same reason, because we didn’t know what else to do! Now get away from that door this instant!”

“But—“ Gwen steps to the side, closer to the window.

“Gwen!”

Gwen stops in front of the covered window and looks at her feet. “I’m so sorry, Rhys.”

“Love,” Rhys says gently. “Maybe I’m not the one you should be apologizing to.”

Gwen bites her lip and hesitantly glances at Jack. “Jack, I—“

A loud crash makes them all jump and the window behind Gwen breaks open, allowing zombies to reach their hands into the pub and grab her.

“Gwen, no!” Rhys runs forward and tries to pull her back in by the leg, the others following to save her. John picks up the gun and goes to reload it as fast as he can.

“No!” Gwen screams. “No! No!”

“Gwen!”

Even as they grip her legs, it doesn’t stop the zombies from ripping through her clothes and opening her stomach with their bare hands. The monsters take out her intestines easily and eat them, the four of them only able watch in morbid horror at the act. Her limbs start getting ripped off, and soon they were left with only Gwen’s legs as her torso was carried off deeper into the wave of zombies.

“Gwen!” With a tight grip on his girlfriend’s detached leg, Rhys runs to the door and unlocks it.

“Rhys, no!” Jack, Ianto, and Tosh scream after him.

Rhys opens the door and braces himself. “I’m coming, Gwen!” And he runs into the crowd, batting away the zombies in his way with Gwen’s leg.

The three of them move back to where John stands, rifle at the ready. They all watch as around them, zombies start finding ways into the pub.

“Oh, dear,” Tosh says weakly.

“Cocktails?” John asks the group, and Ianto immediately nods.

“Do it.”

John hands the gun to the younger man and runs behind the bar. To buy time, Tosh takes a barstool and with a battle cry, uses it to push a line of zombies back out of the pub. Ianto gives the gun to Jack to help her, and Jack handles the gun as if he’s been doing so all his life.

“Stay back!” Ianto barks at the zombies, he and Tosh standing their ground with effort. Jack is shooting at the zombies carefully, not wanting to waste any bullets on misses, while John is hastily trying to make an explosive to use.

“Jack, hold them!”

John finally lights up the rag hanging out of the bottle’s opening and grins. He runs and stands near the PRIVATE door, ready to throw and calling out “Heads!” when the door bursts open and he is grabbed by multiple hands into the hall.

“John!”

John emerges from the door without the cocktail. “Hey, Jack, look who it is!” He grins gleefully and gestures behind him. From the hall, a _still_ naked Owen appears.

Jack gapes. “Fuck-a-doodle-doo!”

“Jack!” Tosh and Ianto shout. “We can’t hold them much longer!”

John’s inattention costs him, however, because Owen gets a hold of him, and John is too busy prying him away to notice Yvonne sneak up from behind until it was too late.

“John, no!”

Yvonne bites him in the neck as the same time as Owen, who goes for his arm. John screams in pain, and Jack points the gun at them.

“Owen!” Jack cocks the gun when his housemate raises his head to look at him. “I said leave him alone!” He shoots and hits Owen right in the eye.

After Owen falls on the floor, Jack sees his friend under too many zombies. “John!” Jack calls out, but there’s no reply. He doesn’t have time to save him, however, because the zombies are right over their shoulders and they have to move.

“Jack.” Ianto grips his arm, Tosh still trying to push zombies back with the barstool. “Bar!”

The three of them run and jump over the bar’s countertop to get behind it. For a moment, Ianto falls on top of Jack before they have to part. They stay low on the ground as the zombies continue to reach for them.

“John!” Jack calls out again. “Joh—“

A body falls beside them in a loud thump and John groans. Tosh grimaces at the amount of blood he has on him.

“What?” John moans at their stare. “Chuck us a cloth, will you?”

Jack looks up and reaches to take a wiping cloth off the counter, tossing it to John afterwards. He then stands up, opens a bottle of brandy, and starts pouring its contents right on the counter. He lights it up and the zombies are thrown aback by the sudden ring of fire.

“Where are the shells?” Ianto asks when Jack slumps back down.

John thinks for a second. “They’re on the bar.”

“Oh, for the love of—“ Jack curses and he stands up again, quickly looking for the box of bullets. It’s standing right amongst the flames and whenever Jack tries to reach for it, he only gets burned.

“Forget it.” Jack drops down beside Ianto. “What are we gonna _do_? Where are we gonna _go_?”

John raps his knuckles on the floor. “The cellar.”

“Maybe we can get out!” Tosh says hopefully.

“There’s a hatch out on the street,” John tells them.

Ianto grimaces, “You mean go back _outside_?”

The old lady Hub regular manages to find a way into the bar. Jack groans.

“Oh, give us a break!”

Suddenly, bullets from the box start ricocheting all over the place. One luckily hits the lady right in the head, and they take that opportunity to go into the cellar.

“Go, go, go!”

Jack helps John down the stairs, Tosh behind them, and Ianto firmly shutting the door. He drops John’s bloodied self on the ground with a grunt.

“I can see the street,” Tosh says, pointing at the strip of light above them. Jack reaches and tries to open the doors, but to no avail.

“Come on,” he grinds out, “Come on! Why won’t it open?” He rattles the doors in frustration.

Ianto glances back at Jack from where he kneels in front of John. Firmly, he places the towels he found in the cellar on John’s wounds to slow the bleeding.

Jack sighs, and sits on the floor under the door. “That’s it then,” he says miserably. “We’re trapped. ‘Hey, let’s all go to the Hub!’ Whose fucking idea was that?” He presses his palms against his face and then runs his hands through his hair. “Man, I’ve really ballsed this up.”

Ianto and Tosh share a glance and without a word, Tosh takes Ianto’s place by John. Ianto sits beside his ex, putting a comforting hand on his shoulder.

“No, you haven’t,” he murmurs.

“But I have, Ianto.” Jack groans. “I couldn’t save us. I couldn’t save Gwen or Rhys. I couldn’t even save Mom. I’m _useless._ ”

“You shouldn’t feel so responsible, Jack. _You tried,_ ” Ianto says. “You did _something,_ that’s what counts, yeah?”

“Yeah, I suppose.” He sighs.

The cellar door creaked ominously. They all share a knowing glance.

“Do you think they’ll get through?” Tosh asks.

Jack nods in resignation. “Yeah.”

“How many shells have we got left?” Ianto asks Jack.

Jack thinks, mentally calculating on how many they’ve put in and used. “Three.” He shrugs. “I suppose we could take a few of them out if they stand in a line.”

“I wasn’t thinking about them.”

Jack and Tosh don’t say anything for a moment. “I know.” The older man murmurs and Tosh bows her head.

The creaking above them gets louder.

Jack frowns. “Wait, what about John? There’s only three shells.”

“I don’t mind being _eaten_.” John grins and waggles his eyebrows. It’s amazing that, even at this time, he can still joke about that.

He rolls his eyes at his friend and grabs the gun from beside him. “How are we gonna do this?”

“I don’t know,” Ianto frowns. “Uh, one of us has to go first.”

“Maybe one should do the other two and then do themselves?” Tosh suggests uncertainly.

“You should do me,” Ianto says, and even if he’s not looking at Jack, they both know he meant him. “I’m not sure I can handle a gun properly – I’ll probably muck it up if I have to do myself.”

Jack shakes his head. “I don’t think I’ve got it in me to shoot my flatmate, my mom, and my boyfriend all in the same evening.”

Ianto looks at Jack with an unreadable expression. “What makes you think I’ve taken you back?” Ianto says slowly. “And I thought you hated that word – _boyfriend._ ”

Tosh discretely looks away and quietly fusses over John to give the two of them a semblance of privacy.

“Well…” Jack reaches to stroke Ianto’s hair. “You don’t want to die single, do you? And I’ve been thinking about a lot of things--”

“Actually,” John dryly cuts them off, “I would like to be shot. Like, _now_.”

Jack ignores him. “And well. I’ve changed. I haven’t had a smoke since yesterday, I promise.” He lightly jokes. John slurs a confirmation at that statement.

“Maybe we should have one now.” Ianto reaches into his back pocket and pulls out a very familiar pack of cigarettes. Tosh giggles in amusement when Jack sputters.

“What?” He raises an eyebrow at Jack. “You left them in my flat.”

“Yeah,” Jack snorts. “In the bin.”

“I was desperate.”

“Sneaky monkey.”

Ianto smiles sheepishly at him and hands him one. “Sorry.” Jack lights his lighter, but before it could go near the cigarette, he sees Ianto notice something from behind him. He turns around and brings the flame higher to light up a control with buttons. He, Ianto, and Tosh look at each other in realization.

“Come on,” Jack tries to pull John up. “We’re getting out of here.”

John doesn’t budge, however. “I might just stay here,” he murmurs. “Figured you guys should make a proper go of it.”

“What are you talking about?”

John nods to where Ianto stands, behind Jack. “I only hold you back.”

“Yeah, but—“

John shakes his head and Jack knows a lost argument when he sees one. Quietly, he hands John the rifle. “Maybe you should have this.”

“Don’t you want it?”

“No.” Jack tries to be casual, but he hears his voice break anyways. “You’ll probably be better at it anyway.” He takes a deep breath. “John, I’m sorry.”

“What for?”

“Cause I was shouting at you earlier on.”

John snorts and waves it off. “It’s alright. Had worse from this one chick in secondary school, remember? And I’m sorry too.”

“It’s okay.”

“No.” John says. “I’m sorry, Jack.”

It takes a moment to register Jack’s mind, and when it does he already catches a whiff of it. “Oh, God, that is so not funny!”

John smirks. “I’ll stop doing ‘em when you stop laughing.”

“I’m not laughing!” Jack tries to hold back a grin but fails. “It’s gross!” It doesn’t take any more than a second for the smile to fall off again, though.

“You’d better be off,” John says. Jack silently nods and places his cigarette between John’s lips and lights it for him. The cellar door breaks open.

“Bye, John,” he murmurs to his best friend.

“Cheers.” John gives him a rare, sweet and sincere smile. He whispers, “Love you, you know. And you should tell the same thing to Eye Candy over there, too. From me and from _you._ ”

Jack gives him a shaky and teary smile. “Lame.”

He stands up, grabs a small axe, and joins Tosh and Ianto, who are standing quietly and solemnly at the platform.

“Goodbye, John,” Ianto says, eyes looking suspiciously teary. “Thank you.”

“Anything for you, Eye Candy.”

With a push of a button, the three of them rise up out of the cellar and into the street outside the Hub. Most of the zombies are apparently inside the burning pub, but Jack doesn’t doubt that they’ll be noticed soon. So he turns to his two remaining companions, “Ready?”

They nod back. “Ready.”

Just then, a large truck runs over some zombies and stops right in front of them, bright lights blinding their eyes. Several uniformed soldiers come out from the back and go stomping towards the building, machine guns ready and shooting at the undead. After the assault, the three of them stare as the soldiers rush into the pub and two particular figures catch Jack’s eye.

“Oh my god,” one of the figures breathes. “Jack!”

“Doctor?!” Jack stares at him incredulously. “Rose?!”

The two run towards them, giving a couple of zombies a good smack along the way.

“How are you doing?” The Doctor asks.

Jack, Ianto and Tosh share a glance. “Surviving.” Jack shrugs.

“They’re taking us somewhere safe,” Rose gently explains. “We thought you guys might want to tag along.”

“Is it only the three of you?” The expression on the Doctor’s face was sad when they numbly nodded. “Well, glad somebody made it. Come on.”

They follow the couple tiredly, and when Jack reaches for Ianto’s hand, Ianto takes it without any hesitation.

 

Epilogue

_“Next – the story of ten-year-old Jasmine Pierce, who fought off the reanimated corpses of her entire family. It’s all coming right up on Zombies From Hell.”_ Next channel.

_“Six months on and, to many, the events of Z-Day must seem like a bad dream. As we now know, the phenomenon resulted from the use of—“_ Next.

_“…Not something I ever expected as a newscaster to have to say on air. ‘Removing the head or destroying the brain.’ Incredible.”_ Next.

_“The fact that the mobile deceased retained their primal instincts make them ideal recruitment for the service industry, as well as other roles such as—“_

Jack groans awake and staggers downstairs to the living room. He hears before sees Ianto on the couch, watching television. He lets out a big yawn before joining his lover in the well-decorated living room.

“Hello.” Ianto smiles at him, giving Jack a kiss the moment he sits down, and turns off the telly.

“What’s the plan then?” Jack asks.

“Right,” Ianto thinks for a moment. “Cup of coffee, of course. Head down to Tosh’s for lunch, veg out in the pub for a bit, wander home, watch a bit of telly, and go to bed.”

“Perfect,” Jack grins. “I especially like the last one.” He strokes Ianto’s leg suggestively. Ianto just rolls his eyes in fondness before getting up.

“I’ll get the coffee on.”

“You know what I like!” Jack calls after him. “Oh, I might pop into the garden for a bit.”

“Go on, then.”

“Two seconds,” Jack murmurs before going out and heading for the shed. He closes the shed door after entering, grabs a controller, and plops right on the ground.

“ _Player two has entered the game,_ ” the game’s voice says and Jack reaches for the television’s remote control. John moves towards it just for a little bite but Jack swiftly pulls his arm away.

“John!”

Zombie John groans in response.


End file.
